


Sleeping Beauty

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, Space Adventure, birthday gift, dub-con, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a myth - something spacers dreamed about to comfort themselves on cold, lonely nights in space. No one really believed the Chang clan had loaded up a ship with their treasures, with a princess, and set it roaming the System, waiting to be rescued. It was just a myth. Right?</p><p>A sci-fi retelling of Sleeping Beauty for Maevemauvaise's birthday. Complete in seven parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maevemauvaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevemauvaise/gifts).



A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. End notes include translations. I do NOT speak Chinese/Mandarin and relied entirely on Google translate. My apologies if anything is horribly wrong.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty _

 

“I’m telling you what I saw,” Duo said, voice that of a patient man who, after repeating himself for the hundredth time, was finally growing weary.

The old, grizzled spacer sitting across from the young man, however, sneered and shook his head.

“No, what you’re telling me is that you’re full of shit and you need to be kicked so hard you’re put to rest with your dead Mam.”

Trowa sighed, and he finished off the last of his drink. He knew, from too much experience, what would happen next. 

He had taken a seat over at the bar, to watch their backs, while Duo and the spacer sat down in a dark booth to conduct business. He was close enough to overhear everything that wasn’t whispered, far enough away that it wasn’t obvious he was the lookout.

The deal, which had started off with a misunderstanding and had only gone downhill fast from there, had been one that neither he nor Duo wanted a part in. It had been a favor, this whole damn thing, a favor and then a bargain and he and Duo had done this sort of thing before, had been forced to put aside their preferences and do something unpleasant.

Of course, it was strange. Those times usually resulted in situations like this one - Duo picking a fight with some hulking brute of a man who, odds usually ran, was friends with at least half of the patrons in the bar. 

Trowa fished a few creds out of his pocket and deposited them on the bar counter before turning around to see - yep, there it was.

Duo leapt across the booth table, grabbed the old spacer’s filthy shirt, and snarled into his face.

“What’d you say about me Mam?”

“That she’s dead,” the spacer spat right into Duo’s face, “and probably better off for it! Miserable  _ ji nu _ that -”

It was the last thing the spacer would say coherently for quite a while, judging by the damage Duo inflicted on his mouth and jaw.

Trowa sighed and watched as Duo proceeded to very thoroughly beat the piss out of a man three times his size, and he waited for someone to come to the spacer’s aid.

_ Five. Four. _

Trowa checked his pockets, loosed the strap on his gun holsters, adjusted his knives.

_ Three. Two. One. _

No one moved to intervene.

In fact, no one moved at all.

Trowa looked away from the mess Duo was making and at the rest of the completely still bar.

_ Shit _ .

“Duo.”

His partner hauled back and delivered another punch that sent a spatter of blood across the filthy bar floor.

“ _ Duo _ ,” he repeated, louder and more forcefully when his partner didn’t bother to look up. 

When that still didn’t work, Trowa took a few, slow, cautious steps towards him and shoved Duo off of the man with his boot.

Duo glared up at him, then followed Trowa’s gaze towards the front of the bar.

“ _ Wǒ cào _ ,” he said, and wiped his face with the back of his right hand, smearing blood on it, before he stood up. “We are so fucking fucked.”

Trowa could only nod in agreement.

It appeared that a small army had flooded into the bar, fanning out at the entrance and moving to block all of the escape routes that Trowa had mentally noted when he and Duo first walked into the bar two hours ago. They were decked out in shiny new body armor, and they held their very heavy duty assault weapons as if they knew how to use them.

They weren’t colonial MPs. That would have been one thing - an annoying thing, but something he and Duo could have gotten out of.

Instead, stamped onto the left shoulders of their armor, these men wore the crossed scimitars of the Winner Organization.

“You two,” one of them stepped forward, his face as bland as a prefab building and his eyes as cold as space, “come with us.”

“Well, I dunno,” Duo drawled. He bent down and picked up the spacer’s work kerchief and started to clean his hands. “I kind of have a date with your sister in a bit, and I’d hate to make her wait. Then again, if I’m a bad boy she’ll probably spank me, and I dunno if you’ve ever been spanked by your sister but -”

Trowa could only roll his eyes when the man shoved the butt of his gun into Duo’s stomach and his partner doubled over in pain.

In the twelve years that he and Duo had been working together, he had never seen Duo exhibit tact, never seen him back down from a fight, never seen him know when to shut up.

The guards were rough as they pulled Duo and Trowa’s hands behind their backs and secured them.

By the time they had been pushed into the back of a security van, Duo was sporting a bloody lip and Trowa was struggling to keep his left eye open.

“Just like old times, eh?” Duo asked, grinning despite the pain, and somehow managing to lounge on the thin metal bench.

Trowa shook his head. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t like old times.

Old times meant back alley stabbings, drug dealing, slave trading, government espionage and dead friends. 

 

-o-

 

It was almost exactly like Trowa remembered it being.

A high-walled compound that encompassed acres of parks and gardens, fountains - all done in the old Terran style, all with complete disregard to colonial regulations or the people starving just a few kilometers  away.

Maganac guards and servants moved about, some with purpose, some with leisure. 

As Duo and Trowa, still restrained, were led through the compound, Trowa idly noted that there were fewer blonde haired, blue eyed women roaming the halls. He wondered just how many had been killed in the five years since he had last been here.

They were led into a huge room, modelled, Trowa remembered being told, after the Hall of Mirrors in some long-destroyed Terran palace.

There wasn’t a dais or a throne, but there might as well have been.

Instead, there was a lone figure, a slim, young man with sandy hair and open features that were the antithesis of his devious mind, standing at the opposite end of the hall and, ridiculously, practicing putting on a small artificial patch of grass.

Duo and Trowa were shoved down on to their knees a meter away from the green, and Trowa winced as his kneecaps encountered the unforgiving Terran imported marble.

The blond man didn’t bother to look up. He simply lined up his club and then slowly, effortlessly, sank the put.

“Are we supposed to be intimidated?” Duo asked. He turned to Trowa. “Are you intimidated? Because I’m not.”

Duo stopped talking when the blond man lifted the club and jabbed it into his throat.

“I would say it’s a pleasure to see you again, Duo, but I know how you feel about lies.” The blond man turned to Trowa then, and he smiled with genuine warmth. “On the other hand, seeing  _ you _ again, Trowa, is a treat I couldn’t even begin to think of.”

Trowa swallowed and kept silent. He had learned, the hard way, that silence was the best way to deal with the man.

Beside him, Duo coughed several times and then offered up a smirk.

“Well, that’s because you’re a small-minded bastard, Quatre,” Duo said in a tone that suggested he was giving the other man a compliment.

Quatre pursed his lips, and it was clear he was debating whether or not to inflict even more damage with the club.

Instead, after a pause, he swung the club up onto his shoulder and tapped the leather grip thoughtfully.

“As I recall, when the two of you left my employ we had a bargain.”

Even Duo remained silent now, the ice in Quatre’s tone a clear warning.

“The two of you would never enter my territory again, and I wouldn’t bother to have you killed. That  _ was _ the deal, was it not?”

It was. And  _ that _ had been the reason neither Duo nor Trowa had wanted to take on their most recent cargo and sell it in the first place. But Howard had asked them to, and Duo treated the old spacer like the father who hadn’t abandoned him in a trash bin and would, quite literally, face his own death to help the old man out. 

“Well, the thing is -” Duo began, but Quatre narrowed his eyes and Duo, having also learned the hard way just how little Quatre was amused by him, faltered.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you two right now.”

Duo opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver some cutting last words, but Trowa glared at him.

Quatre, amused at the interplay, smirked and arched an eyebrow at Trowa, inviting him to speak up.

“You already have a reason,” Trowa said, unwilling to play this game. “If you didn’t, Duo and I would be corpses in an alley already.”

Quatre gave an irritated sigh. “Trowa…” He was practically whining, and anyone who didn’t know him, anyone who hadn’t been spattered with blood while standing beside him as Quatre methodically severed the limbs from a junkie who owed him money, would assume he was just a spoiled brat who was irritated at not getting his way.

But both Duo and Trowa knew that he was a spoiled brat capable of incomprehensibly cruel acts. Not the kind of brat you wanted to have irritated at you.

Even Duo, who spent nearly every second of his life defying death and the odds, remained still and silent.

Quatre swung the club and Trowa flinched, but the club missed both of them, hitting the fake turf with enough force that the entire piece shifted.

“Yes, well, of course you are correct,” Quatre said with a scowl. “I would be willing to let the two of you live in exchange for a small favor.”

Duo snorted derisively.

“Is this the kind of small favor that means we almost die or like, do you want me to run to the corner store and grab you some Arak?”

Quatre’s eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened on the grip of the club, but Duo just continued to look curious.

But Trowa was thinking back to what Quatre had already said - about not even thinking to see Trowa again. So it was Duo Quatre was after. That, at least, explained why Quatre hadn’t started to beat him with the club.

“What do you know about  _ Nataku _ ?”

Duo shrugged. “Whatever shit pathetic old spacers dream about when they’re drunk. It’s a fucking myth.” 

But Quatre only arched an eyebrow, questioning Duo’s claim. Duo frowned and turned to Trowa.

“Right?” He asked, clearly looking for backup.

Trowa had certainly thought so before now, but Quatre was so still, so watchful, that he was starting to doubt it.

“What?” Trowa asked. Knowing Quatre, he would drag this out as long as he could. The man had achieved so much, at such a young age, that nearly everything in his life bored him. Trowa refused to become an amusement for the man who had once been his employer, once been his lover.

Quatre turned away from them, casually pacing, idly swinging the club like a pendulum.

“For centuries, the Chang clan had complete control over the L5 cluster. Then, two hundred years ago, that all ended.”

“Funny how a plague wiping out seven billion people will do that,” Duo muttered.

Quatre ignored the interruption, but Trowa saw the way Duo’s eyes darkened, saw him thinking back to his own childhood, to the plague that had wiped out everyone  _ he _ knew.

“Everything the Chang clan possessed was lost - looters, deteriorating Hab systems, fires, micrometeorites - within weeks, the wealth of the Changs had vanished, as well as all of their knowledge. Except, of course, for the  _ Nataku _ .”

“You really believe the Changs loaded all of their wealth and knowledge onto a ship and set it roaming the System, waiting for someone to find it and re-establish their supremacy?” Trowa found it hard to believe. He had always thought it was a fairy tale - a spacer’s fantasy. He found it impossible that  _ Quatre _ would put any stock in it.

“I know they did.”

That made Duo rock back on his heels, made Trowa’s eyes narrow.

_ How _ was the question neither of them wanted to ask.

“My family, you know, had dealings with the Changs as far back as when we both lived on Terra. Always in competition. Even in space.” Quatre shrugged. “We finally figured out how to defeat them, but we hadn’t counted on their preparations for such an event.”

“You  _ bastard _ .”

Duo was on his feet and hurling himself at Quatre before any of the guards could move.

He was on his back, spitting out a tooth and groaning, before Trowa could intercede.

Quatre grimaced at the blood on the end of the golf club.

“ _ I _ didn’t unleash the plague, Duo. It was two hundred years ago.” Quatre paused and then shrugged. “Of course, I  _ would _ have.” Quatre rubbed the bloody club on Duo’s shirt until it was clean again.

So Quatre believed in -  _ knew _ \- the  _ Nataku _ . And he wanted Duo.

“You know where she is.”

“I know where she is  _ rumored _ to be,” Quatre corrected.

“And you want me to get her for you?” Duo asked. Trowa was surprised. It wasn’t that he thought Duo was stupid - he was brilliant, and had proven it time and time again - but he hadn’t thought Duo was thinking of much of anything besides murdering Quatre. “No way. You can fuck right off.”

Quatre sighed, and gave Trowa a long-suffering look. 

Trowa offered him a  _ what can you do _ shrug.

Quatre’s lips quirked upwards and despite everything, despite the pain and the fear and the years apart, Trowa felt a familiar tug. He looked away.

“Oddly enough, I  _ had _ anticipated you saying that. Relena.”

Trowa frowned. He didn’t recognize the word, and he knew a fair amount of Arabic - knew enough Mandarin and German and French to get by as well.

A moment later, a blonde woman walked into the hall. She was not, Trowa knew instantly, one of Quatre’s sisters.

It wasn’t just that her features were different - her hair a few shades darker, her eyes too, her bone structure stronger - but she was dressed in a way that Quatre’s sisters never would be. She was dressed like a  _ ji nu _ , her clothing sheer silk that left no curve of her slim body hidden. 

She was, aesthetically, quite beautiful. But the firm set to her jaw, the fire in her eyes, and the defiant set of her shoulders made Trowa wonder just how  _ long _ she had been employed as a bed warmer for Quatre, made him wonder just how  _ willing _ she was.

“Those individuals, where do they live again?” Quatre asked, his voice casual while he ran a hand through the woman’s loose hair.

She closed her eyes, and Trowa knew he wasn’t imagining the revulsion on her face.

“Hilde Schbeiker owns a junkshop in the L2 cluster, on M235X. She lives in an apartment above the shop, on Sunrise Ave and 257th street. She goes to the Eastern Supplies grocery two blocks away every Wednesday, and -”

“Stop,” Duo hissed. He was back on his feet, but he made no move to attack Quatre again.

Trowa felt a little silly, still on his knees, so he pushed away his guard and rose. He walked over to Duo and stood beside him.

He knew how much Hilde meant to Duo - more than Howard did. More than  _ Trowa _ did. Quatre knew it too.

He gave them a triumphant little smirk.

“So, I’m sure you will advise Ms. Schbeiker to move elsewhere, but that will have to wait until  _ after _ your little jaunt to the Asteroid Belt.”

And that, Trowa couldn’t help but think, would be the other shoe dropping.

Because, despite Quatre’s choice of words, getting  _ to _ the Asteroid Belt, much less piloting  _ through _ it, would take damn near a miracle.

Or Trowa and Duo.

Duo, the best damn pilot Trowa had ever known, could probably fly through the Belt in a tin can and still make record time. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the Interdiction Force, set up by the Terran government, that controlled access to the Belt and the valuable mining fields.

And Trowa just happened to know a captain in the InterForce, a captain who ran one of the checkpoints and owed Trowa his life.

He narrowed his eyes, but Quatre just waved a hand lazily.

“Yes, yes, of course I know where your sister is, and what name she is performing under. Catherine  _ Bloom _ ? Not terribly clever. Though it does have a certain ring to it. Now, can I trust you two boys to do my bidding, or do I need to have Hilde and Catherine brought to me to ensure your good behaviour?”

“If you touch a fucking  _ hair _ on Hilde’s head, I will -”

“You will  _ what _ , Duo? Try to avenge her and  _ fail _ , as you have on so many other occasions when you try to protect your little family? Don’t waste my time with your pathetic threats. You might be clever, you might have a mouth as fast as your hands on a control panel, but do  _ not _ presume to think you can ever say  _ anything _ that will intimidate me. You barely even manage to amuse me.”

Quatre turned cold, knowing eyes on Trowa.

“I trust you to keep him in line. I want that ship and I want that treasure. I will send an escort of Maganacs with you.”

“An escort?” Trowa sneered. “How many?”

“A dozen. In case there is heavy lifting.”

“Did you just call me fat? Tro, I think he just called me fat.”

Duo’s equilibrium seemed to be back, Quatre’s cutting words seeming to remind him of just how much was at stake here, how formidable their opponent.

“Or maybe he called  _ you _ fat,” Duo mused, looking over Trowa. “You have put on a stone or two since we worked for him. You think Trowa’s fat, Q? You really think it’s going to take twelve men to shove our bodies into the airlock as soon as I get that ship out of the Belt?”

Quatre just blinked and twined a finger into the woman’s hair and tugged.

She winced, and Trowa saw her fists clench.

“You have one week.”

“One week?!” Duo exploded. “It’ll take two days just to  _ get _ to the Belt! Who knows how long we’ll be drifting in there looking for this ghost ship.”

“I will make sure you have the list of likely coordinates. And I am not an idiot. I know that  _ you _ , Duo, can get from here to the Belt in thirty-six hours.”

Duo scowled, clearly pissed at having been caught out.

“What do we get out of this?” Trowa demanded, speaking up and causing both Duo and Quatre to look surprised.

“You get to live. And so do Cathy and Hilde.”

Trowa shook his head. “That’s not enough. We’re turning over the greatest fortune in the System to you - a way to completely change how humans live - and all we get is our lives? No. I want more.”

Duo’s jaw dropped, but Quatre sighed.

“Of course you do. How much?”

“Ten percent.”

Quatre let out a harsh bark of laughter.

“Ten percent? Is that  _ all _ ? Oh, learn to dream a little bigger, Trowa.”

Trowa narrowed his eyes.

“You taught me how to be a realist, Quatre. If I said anything higher than that, you would have laughed and talked it lower. I’m saying ten percent now and I’m saying that’s not negotiable. You want to kill us? Go ahead. But I’m guessing you’ve already lost a few men to the Belt, already lost a few million creds bribing InterForce and it hasn’t gotten you anywhere. You  _ need _ Duo and you need me. So don’t pretend that it’s you doing  _ us _ a favor.”

Quatre stared at him, tried to stare him down, but Trowa refused to budge. Refused to look away.

“Ten percent,” Quatre agreed. “My men will escort you to your ship. It has already been refueled and I’ve emptied your cargo hold so that you will be able to fly faster.”

Duo made a sound but, thankfully, he didn’t have a retort to offer up.

“One week,” Quatre repeated. “One week, and then I kill them and if I have to track down the two of you, death will be the farthest thing from my mind and the  _ only _ thing on yours.”

  
  


-o-

_ Ji bu _ : prostitute

_ Wǒ cào:  _ Holy Shit!

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 2 _

  
  


There was something soothing about space. The silence, the cold. The knowledge that the universe was hardly aware of his existence. 

Trowa felt insignificant and overlooked, and it was comforting. Strange, that, and he didn’t care to think too much on  _ why _ that was the case, but after his audience with Quatre two days ago, Trowa was more than happy to be ignored by forces more powerful than himself.

He was also very damn grateful to be doing EVA work, rigging the UV reflective panels on the ship’s hull to deflect any InterForce scans into the  _ Scythe’s _ cargo hold.

It was habit, more than need, since Quatre had so thoughtfully put their gear into storage when he seized their ship.

There was a static buzz in Trowa’s ear, and then a beleaguered sigh.

“I swear to fuck, Tro, I’m going to cut these bastards’ throats in their sleep.”

It was Duo, frustrated and on edge and, as the pilot, unable to do the EVA work that Trowa had tasked himself with. It was an escape - from the twelve Maganacs who seemed to be operating under orders to make this trip as unpleasant as possible for both Duo and Trowa - and, to an extent, from Duo.

His partner, who had routinely picked fights with the Mags back when they had willingly worked for Quatre, seemed to be challenging himself to be even more surly, even  _ more _ repellent than the Mags serving as their escort.

Duo might dream of cutting their throats, but Trowa was dreaming of just getting himself put under custody when they passed the InterForce checkpoint in a few hours. 

It was cowardly, and only a half-formed thought, but it was there all the same.

Trowa wasn’t cut out for this - wasn’t strong enough or inclined enough to have his sister held up as a hostage to ensure his good behavior. 

It was, Trowa knew, his own damn fault in the first place. For ever trusting Quatre enough to whisper stories of his childhood with the circus to the blond haired man late at night as they curled together. It had been Trowa’s fault for thinking there were two sides to Quatre - the lover and the malevolent lord of L4. His fault, for not realizing that they were the same side, that Quatre used sex and tenderness the same way he used a scimitar or a golf club. Tools to take apart his opposition and get his way, no more and no less.

For years, Trowa had even  _ been _ such a tool, doing Quatre’s bidding and convincing himself that it didn’t matter - that the people Quatre crushed either had it coming or would have found themselves dead another way in any case. It had taken the Mariemaia incident to make Trowa realize how blind he had been, how complicit he himself was in Quatre’s foul deeds. 

After that, after an innocent girl was murdered in her bed and her family mowed down like rabid animals, Trowa and Duo had cut their ties with Quatre, had bartered for their freedom and swore to both Quatre and themselves that their paths would never cross again.

Until now. 

_ Damn Howard _ .

_ Damn Duo for attracting attention with that bar fight. _

_ Damn- _

Trowa suddenly realized that there was every chance that they had been set up, that Quatre had rigged the deal in the first place, had probably paid off the grizzled spacer to be insulting to Duo so that he would start a brawl. 

As far-fetched as it seemed, it was something Quatre had done before, and when the stakes were this high - possession of the fabled  _ Nataku _ \- Trowa was willing to bet Quatre had gone to the effort to ensure that Duo and Trowa wandered across his path again.

_ Bastard _ .

“Look, Tro, I’ve been thinking-”

“I thought we talked about how dangerous that was,” Trowa said, grunting a little as he maneuvered the last of the UV panels into place.

“You’re a fucking riot, man. So listen, I’ve got the Maggies busy securing everything and welding the smuggler’s holds shut so we’ve got a few minutes of secure comms.”

Trowa swallowed. He knew what Duo was going to say next. You didn’t work with someone for twelve years, didn’t depend on them for your very survival, and not learn how they thought, the twists and turns their brain took.

“He’s not letting us walk out of this, even _if_ we bring back this _qí yán fèn tǔ yě_ ship.”

“I know.”

“So what… we just going to kneel down and bare our throats for him?”

“No.” 

Finished with the UV panels, Trowa started to slowly move back towards the airlock. He took a detour, though, and bumped his helmeted head against the cockpit viewport.

Duo jumped and fell out of the pilot’s chair, and Trowa couldn’t help but smirk.

“You are not right in the fucking head, Barton,” Duo muttered angrily as he righted himself and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual.

“The problem is, I can only think of two solutions,” Duo sighed. He put his booted feet up on the console, away from anything critical, and folded his hands behind his head. “One, we get ourselves a nice vacation courtesy of the InterForce. But that means Q will have Hilde and Cathy butchered, and then he’ll come for us - so I’m not a fan of that one.”

“Me either,” Trowa agreed, having already discarded the possibility.

“The other option is we go in, we get the  _ Nataku _ , and we get InterForce to burn us down on the way out. You and me still end up dead, probably, but maybe he’d let Cathy and Hilde live.”

“Maybe. He might be irritated with us for having the audacity to get ourselves killed and take it out on them.”

Duo muttered a curse under his breath.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, “not to mention - I’m not  _ quite _ ready to die yet, and I sure as hell don’t want to go out at the other end of some IF canon.”

Neither did Trowa. 

“Tro, remember that guy Rubens?”

It seemed like a change in subject, and Trowa frowned for a moment as he tried to remember the man.

“One eye? Sold us that shitty converter?”

“Yeah, him. You remember how he lost his other eye?”

Trowa honestly didn’t. Duo had some kind of magic gift for getting people to tell him their life stories, but Trowa tended to either tune them out or simply walk away when he knew that Duo and whatever drunk he happened to be chatting up weren’t going to end up at each other’s throats.

“He was a Sweeper, yanno.”

“Yes. I remember the tattoo - on his cheek. It was like he was  _ asking _ for InterForce to arrest him.”

“Tell me about it. ‘Course, then there’s  _ you _ , who for reasons passing my understanding decided to get the damn thing done on your scrawny  _ ass _ and-”

“Rubens?” Trowa interrupted one of Duo’s favorite and oft-repeated rants.

He saw Duo grin at him through the viewport.

“So, Rubens. He was looting around in the old L5 Debris Cluster, came across this cache on one of the intact colonies - thought he’d landed himself a nice, fat retirement fund.”

“But?”

“But the cache was rigged, booby-trapped to high fuck, and Rubens lost an eye, his first mate, and any chance at getting whatever treasure was in the cache.”

Trowa frowned.

Duo would not have brought this story up without a good reason.

“You think the  _ Nataku _ is going to be booby-trapped?”

“I mean… if it’s the Changs’ last hope or whatever,  _ wouldn’t _ it be?”

Trowa nodded, then realized Duo probably couldn’t see the gesture.

“I think there’s a good chance of that.”

“Right. So I’m thinking, you know, if a few of the Maggies happened to, er, stumble upon some traps and tragically die - s’not our fault, is it?”

“Chang traps or Maxwell traps?”

Duo grinned, and even through Trowa’s helmet and the viewport, he could see the malice in the expression.

“Well, who’s to say?” He shrugged. “So I figure we off a few that way, then, outbound, a few more of the fucks die because of a - a coolant leak or some shit. It’s a two hundred year old ship - those kinds of things are bound to happen, right?”

“Right,” Trowa agreed, as Duo’s plan started to unfold. “And when we get back to the L4 Sector - Quatre will have to come out to us. He’s not going to risk docking this ship and having his IF toadies realize what it is.”

“Exactly. I’m sure he keeps them well bribed, but even the dumbest IF  _ chánchú _ is going to know he needs to alert his superiors if an ancient Chang warship shows up.”

“So we arrange for Quatre to go the way of his Mags, and then we-”

“Have ourselves a goddamned treasure ship, Tro.”

It was, Trowa had to admit, a damn good idea.

“He’s got to have thought of it, though,” Trowa said. “He knows us. He knows we’re going to try to get out of this.”

“I thought of that too,” Duo agreed. Through the comm, Trowa could hear a loud  _ thud, _ and Duo turned to glare at the closed door of the cockpit. He scowled. “I think our buddies want in. So I’ll make this quick. Worse comes to worse, you and I evac to  _ Scythe _ and just blow the  _ Nataku _ up, killing our golden demon in the process. It doesn’t leave us rich and powerful, but it leaves us alive.”

“I’ll take alive over rich and powerful any day,” Trowa agreed, as Duo got up and started to walk towards the door.

“Exactly. Now get your ass in here before I kill these bastards.”

 

-o-

 

“Freighter 007181, hold at your current position and identify yourself.”

The voice was clipped with military precision, and Trowa could imagine that the soldier who went with the voice was equally bland and curt.

Duo, sitting in the pilot’s chair again, licked his lips and smirked. No doubt he was thinking of something witty to say that would probably result in all of them having to go through quarantine clearance as a punishment. At least, that had been the result of his  _ last _ attempt to be funny when queried by the IF.

“Don’t even try it.”

A heavy hand landed on Duo’s shoulder, as forceful as the voice that delivered the warning, and Duo turned to glare up at Rashid, the leader of their Mags escort.

The man knew Duo well - had been happy to beat him to a pulp on several previous occasions, and Duo was no doubt remembering those as he angrily shrugged off Rashid’s hand.

Duo flipped the comms switch.

“This is Freighter 007181, registered as  _ Death’s Scythe _ .”

There was a pause while the IF looked them up.

“You don’t have clearance to approach the Belt. It was revoked last year by the Governor of Mars.”

Duo rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, listen, that was just a little misunderstanding and I’ve sent the Governor flowers and candy, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me shot on sight anymore. How’s about we-”

“ _ Death’s Scythe,  _ come to the following heading and prepare to be boarded,” a familiar voice broke in.

Duo sighed, the force of his exhaled breath ruffling his bangs.

“Will do, Captain Tight Ass.”

It was Trowa’s turn to roll his eyes. He closed the comms for Duo and shook his head.

“Captain Tight Ass?”

“I know. Not as good as Lieutenant Icy Cock, but I wanted to, you know, show respect for his promotion.”

Rashid, standing behind them, was clearly at a loss, and Trowa felt no need to enlighten him.

The man who had interrupted Duo’s attempts to sweet talk his way past the IF checkpoint was Heero Yuy, an old acquaintance of theirs.

On their first meeting, Duo had shot the IF officer several times. On their second, he had rescued him from certain death. When  _ Trowa  _ had first met him, a few years later, he had also saved Heero’s life, albeit in vastly different circumstances. While Heero’s debt to Duo had been paid off long ago - and his patience expired - Heero still owed Trowa.

“Hope you Maggies have all of your papers in order,” Duo said as he spun around and got out of his chair. “’Cuz Captain Death Glare is a stickler for that kind of thing.”

Duo walked past them, and Trowa followed him down to the airlock and waited.

It wasn’t long before a warning klaxon started to blare, until Duo rolled his eyes and slapped at the nearest wall control unit. A moment later and there was a pressurized hiss as the airlock doors slid open to reveal an IF boarding party. 

There were seven of them - a squad of troopers and Heero Yuy himself, the perfect picture of military composure with the exception of his eternally mussed hair.

“Search the ship. Seize any cargo or passengers who aren’t on the manifest.”

Duo grinned.

“Captain Anal Retentive, are you suggesting that  _ I _ would try to smuggle something past  _ you _ and the mighty IF?”

Heero flicked his gaze over at Duo, then focused his attention entirely on Trowa.

“Barton.”

“Yuy.”

Duo rolled his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t go getting sentimental in front of me.”

Trowa saw Heero’s lips twitch ever so slightly before the other man restrained himself.

“I have a few questions for you, if you would care to accompany me?” Heero gestured to the airlock and the IF boarding shuttle.

Rashid made a noise of complaint, and Heero arched an eyebrow at him.

“An invitation I can certainly extend to everyone aboard,” he said smoothly, “but then I would have to take all of you into custody and impound this ship until further notice.”

Rashid looked homicidal, but he lowered his gaze and shook his head in the negative.

Heero gestured again, and Trowa preceded him into the airlock.

“You two kids have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Duo called after them.

Heero muttered something under his breath.

“Hm?” Trowa had to smirk.

“I can’t believe you put up with him,” Heero said, but Trowa was certain that had  _ not _ been what he had first muttered.

“Me either,” Trowa agreed.

He let Heero take the lead as soon as they were back on the boarding shuttle. Heero took him to what was clearly an interrogation room.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

“There’s nowhere else private. It’s also the only place where I can scrub the security feed before it gets archived.”

Trowa nodded in understanding and appreciation.

They were very different men - Heero operating within the law and Trowa as far outside of it as he could manage - but they respected each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Trowa said. He sat on the edge of the table, unsure of what, exactly, Heero wanted from him.

Heero looked just as uncertain. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

“I thought you were due for a rotation on Terra.”

“I was. I turned it down.”

Trowa arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown attached to the dullest job in the IF?”

Heero snorted. “Hardly.  _ This _ is the most interesting thing that’s happened in seven months.”

And Heero didn’t even know the half of it.

Trowa nodded in sympathy.

Heero let out a slow breath and he stepped closer, fitting his body between Trowa’s legs.

_ Oh _ .

Trowa pulled him closer, using Heero’s tie as leverage.

Heero smirked but he allowed it, angled his head so that their lips fit together with familiar precision.

Heero nipped at Trowa’s lip, just this side of painful, and there wasn’t much after that that could be considered precise.

They were a little frantic, fumbling with clasps and zippers, hands too cold as they encountered hot flesh, teeth and lips everywhere.

After, while Heero tried to right his thoroughly disheveled uniform and Trowa lay on his back on the table, his flushed cheek pressed against the cold, hard surface, Trowa was struck with the deeply uncomfortable realization that Heero had missed him.

He swallowed hard, the urge to run away making his heart race. But there was nowhere to run.

So, he drew in a deep breath and tried to channel Duo, a man who seemed capable of running away without even taking a single step.

“I hope you weren’t planning on treating Duo and the rest of my crew to this kind of interrogation. I doubt your uniform would survive it.”

Heero, in the process of shoving his dress shirt back into the waist of his trousers, stopped to stare at him. 

Trowa could see the hurt, the flash of anger, and then the professional facade slid into place and Heero nodded.

“I thought you and Duo were done making Belt runs. After the incident with the Governor.”

“We thought so too,” Trowa said with a sigh, as he sat up.

“Then why are you here?”

Trowa sighed, and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“A favor, for an old friend.” Trowa paused, and he contemplated what a monumental asshole he was. “Speaking of favors.”

Heero ruthlessly tightened his tie and refused to meet Trowa’s gaze.

“What do you need?”

“To get through the checkpoint - and back out again in a few days. We’re picking up an old freighter, some damned antique that Duo promised to look over. I think it’s probably a pile of junk, but it’s docked with one of the mining satellites, and-”

“Which one?”

“X44M,” Trowa lied easily. It was always so easy. Especially with Heero, who had only ever wanted to believe him. 

“Is that all?”

“No. I… I need you to see if my sister is safe. My sister and Hilde Schbeiker.”

“Duo’s-”

“They ended things, but he’s still… you know how he is.”

Heero scowled. “Why wouldn’t they be safe?”

Trowa shrugged one shoulder.

“We live in dangerous times.”

“Trowa-”

“I can’t be him, Heero.”

“What?” The other man’s eyebrows were drawn together in anger and confusion.

Trowa sighed and he got to his feet, using his height to put more distance between them.

“I can’t be the man you want me to be, Heero. I can’t- I am only ever going to be the merc who uses you. I’m only ever going to be good for a quick fuck and a lot of regrets.”

“You really think that? You really think you’re worth so little?”

Trowa snorted. “ _ I _ know I am. I’m not like you, Heero. I don’t have a cause, I don’t have a past or a future and I’m not stupid enough to think I deserve one.”

Heero glared at him, and it was clear he wanted to say something. Hell, from the way his fists were clenched, he probably wanted to attempt to beat some sense into Trowa.

“You need to let me go.”

  
  
  


-o-

Translations:

 

_ qí yán fèn tǔ yě _ : Piece of shit

_ Chánchú _ : toad


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at the end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 3 _

  
  


Back aboard the  _ Scythe _ , Trowa ignored Duo’s inquiring look, Rashid’s glare, and he locked himself into his bunk. 

He wasn’t needed at the moment - Duo could navigate the asteroid field without Trowa’s help, and the grav generators on the  _ Scythe _ were kept low enough that the ride promised to be a bumpy one, ensuring that all of the Mags would keep out of Duo’s way as they prayed for survival and empty stomachs.

Hell, he wasn’t needed at  _ all _ now that he had gotten them past the IF. He was just a merc, another hired hand here to do Quatre’s bidding.

He was furious with himself, for manipulating Heero, for allowing Quatre to manipulate  _ him _ .

Trowa spent two hours mentally berating himself, dredging up all of his worst failures, before he managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

When he awoke, five hours had passed and his comm unit was vibrating.

He rubbed at his eyes and swallowed the bitter taste in his throat.

“What?” he asked as he thumbed it on.

“Time to rise and shine, Tro. You’ll have to reminiscence about Captain Irksome later, because I’ve got a sensor reading up here that’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

Despite himself, Trowa felt a thrill at the words.

As much as he wanted to be done with this - to be as far away from anything to do with Quatre Winner as possible - he couldn’t quite squash his excitement at the chance to actually find the  _ Nataku _ .

Like every other kid who had grown up in space, Trowa had heard the stories, and he, just like every other kid, had dreamed of one day finding the lost treasure ship and changing his life.

But Trowa had put those dreams aside and had grown up knowing that he would never change his life, never find treasure, and never be anything more than he was.

With those bracing thoughts, Trowa climbed out of his bunk and joined Duo in the cockpit.

Rashid and two other Mags were already there, making it a tight fit, but Trowa shoved his way past them and leaned over Duo’s chair.

“Where?” he asked, when a quick scan of both the instrument panel and the viewport revealed nothing more than asteroids.

Duo tapped on the panel, while at the same time gesturing to a clump of asteroids several hundred meters away.

“There. You see - hang on, wait - there. See how the radar mirrored back to us?”

“Yeah?”

“Tro, it  _ exactly _ mirrored back to us, despite the fact that it was bouncing over a non-spherical surface.”

Trowa frowned. “Cloaking device?” 

Duo nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. And those coordinates are about twelve klicks away from the ones Q-man provided, so I’m guessing that ugly-ass  _ lèsè _ is our baby.”

“So what’s the plan?” Rashid asked.

Duo twisted to sneer at him. “The plan was for me to pilot us here. I’m not a fucking pirate. You tell  _ me _ what the plan is.”

Rashid’s hands clenched into fists. It was, Trowa had decided years ago, the natural reaction to almost everything that came out of Duo’s mouth.

“If it’s a cloaking device, and it’s two hundred years old, odds are that it’s going to drop once we get within visual proximity,” Trowa spoke up, before Rashid decided he would risk piloting the  _ Nataku _ out of the Belt without Duo’s expertise. “We sidle up, figure out where the airlock is, and dock.”

“Any of you fine gents know Mandarin?” Duo asked, as he settled in and nosed  _ Scythe _ closer.

“No. Why?” Rashid was frowning.

Trowa didn’t need to see Duo’s face to know he was rolling his eyes.

“If this  _ is _ the  _ Nataku _ , everything is going to be in Mandarin - the access keys, the nav console…  _ None _ of you know Mandarin?”

Rashid and the other Mags exchanged dark looks.

“Go find out if anyone else knows Mandarin,” Rashid ordered, and the other Mags left.

Duo snorted. “Kind of an oversight for Q-man to send you all here and none of you know Mandarin. Kind of means you really,  _ really _ need Tro and I, doesn’t it?”

Rashid looked ready to kill Duo, consequences be damned.

It was, Trowa reflected, a good point though. Quatre was anything but careless - he would have known that the  _ Nataku _ would need a crew familiar with Mandarin, and it seemed foolish, at the very least, to trust Duo and Trowa as translators.

“The Mags who knew Mandarin - they all died, didn’t they? Trying to get out here.”

Rashid looked away, and Trowa knew he was right.

Well. How very unfortunate. That wasn’t going to help Quatre with recruitment.

The other Mags came back, out of breath, and shook their heads.

Rashid made an irritated sound.

“You know,” Duo said, and Trowa had to sigh, wondering just how Duo planned to next provoke Rashid. “I always thought this whole  _ Nataku _ thing was garbage - so I never really cared. But, I guess, if it’s  _ real _ , you think that means the whole Princess thing is too? The Changs putting their most beautiful princess on the ship with all of their other treasures?”

Trowa rolled his eyes.

Rashid snorted.

“If it is, Master Quatre will claim her as well.”

Duo looked at them over his shoulder. “Well, I mean, Tro and I get five percent of her. Whaddya think, Tro, could a Princess and a guy like me…?”

“No,” Rashid and Trowa said at the same time.

“Do you really think there’s a princess frozen in stasis on that thing?” one of the Mags asked, and Trowa looked at him, realizing just how very young he was.

“I’ve never heard of stasis lasting this long,” Rashid said dismissively. “The longest anyone was in stasis was one hundred years, and he- he went insane. If there  _ is _ a princess, the kindest thing would be for her to die as soon as she is revived.”

Trowa wondered if Rashid was only thinking about the possibility of insanity, or if he knew just how Quatre liked to treat the women under his control. He didn’t want to ask.

Just as Trowa had predicted, as soon as  _ Scythe _ came within twenty meters of the asteroids, there was a tell-tale flicker and then- 

And then an ancient hulk of a ship sat before them.

“By the gods. I didn’t think it was real,” Rashid whispered.

Duo snorted. “You came a hell of a long way to have doubts. Q know about them?”

Rashid offered him a toothy grin. “Of course. He said that if it turned out there was no ship I could kill you however I wanted to. I thought it was a fair trade.”

Duo looked away and concentrated on bringing the  _ Scythe _ up to one of the airlocks.

“We should probably get into enviro gear - no telling if the hull has been breached or what the air quality is like,” Trowa suggested.

“We only have four suits,” Duo pointed out, sounding not at all sorry.

“Then it’s a good thing we brought our own.” Rashid squeezed Duo’s shoulder tight enough that Duo grunted and broke free.

“Let’s suit up and get over there,” Trowa said. He gave Duo a meaningful look. It was definitely time to initiate his plan to get a few of these Mags killed off.

 

-o-

 

It was surprisingly easy.

The first died almost as soon as they set foot on the  _ Nataku _ , pushing past Duo as he code-sliced his way past the airlock security door, clearly eager for glory, and he paid for it, falling down at Trowa’s feet, a smoking crater in his chest that burned with orange flames around the edge.

“Well, at least we know there’s oxygen,” Trowa said, and stepped over the body.

Duo snorted and followed him.

They were in a hold of some kind, illuminated by the dimmest emergency lights Trowa had ever seen and their own enviro suit lights.

Rashid had some kind of complicated measuring device and, after a moment of sweeping it in the air, he sighed in relief.

“It’s clear. It won’t smell very good, but there are no traces of pathogens or harmful chemicals. Take off your helmets.”

It was an order, and even though Duo and Trowa hesitated, they followed suit. If they kept their helmets on, they might as well be broadcasting their intentions to release harmful chemicals into the atmo.

Duo took off his helmet, shoved his gloves into it, and dropped it on the deck.

He started to wander off, but Rashid stopped him.

“Maxwell, go to the bridge and see if this thing can fly.”

“I’ll need to look at the engines, too,” Duo said.

“Fine. Take Omar and Adam with you. And you, Barton, Hamza, Caleb and I will start looking for the treasure. The rest of you, split into pairs and  _ carefully _ start looking. Do not touch anything that looks dangerous.”

Duo snorted again, but he mercifully refrained from saying anything. He started to walk away, and Omar and Adam fell into step behind him.

“You take the lead,” Rashid gestured towards Trowa.

“You’re too kind,” Trowa muttered, but he turned on the chest lamp on his suit and started off in the direction opposite of Duo.

During their flight out from L4, the Mags, Trowa and Duo had looked over schematics for old Chang war cruisers, which, according to the most popular versions of the myth, the  _ Nataku _ was most likely to be.

So far, their research was paying off. 

Trowa managed to avoid at least seven traps based on his recently-acquired knowledge - doors where they didn’t belong, ductwork that followed the wrong alignment. He pointed all of them out as he went, except for the seventh one, as they were passing through the empty mess hall. He saw the thin green beam of motion sensor light at ankle height and casually,  _ carefully, _ stepped over it without saying anything.

By chance, Rashid and Hamza did as well.

Caleb, on the other hand, stepped through it and found himself without a left foot.

He fell to the deck, writhing and screaming in pain, rolling  _ back _ into the laser, and suddenly he wasn’t screaming or moving anymore.

Rashid gave an irritated sigh, but Hamza looked like he was going to be sick.

Trowa led them deeper into the bowels of the ship, through hold after hold, deck after deck - but the ship was completely empty.

There was no treasure. 

There was  _ nothing _ . No signs that there had ever been anything or anyone on the ship. If there had been a treasure and it had been looted, the pirates had done a remarkably thorough job.

They were completing the final circuit, on their way back to the front hold through which they had boarded, when they passed by the med bay.

Unlike the rest of the ship, the med bay was well lit - bright white light flooding the corridor, so startling that Trowa actually winced as the bay doors slid open.

He hesitated on the threshold, wary of more traps, but Rashid shoved him forward, and Trowa just barely managed to keep his feet.

Heart racing, he looked around, ready for death.

He didn’t die, but his heart stopped all the same.

Fastened to the rear wall of the med bay, a halo of lights and monitors surrounding it, was a stasis capsule. 

The capsule was nothing like the modern ones - all so sleek and curved to perfectly fit a human body. It was large and bulky, and the glass front had no artistic and modest frosted panes. It was completely transparent, revealing the completely naked and completely perfect body that it held. 

“Yo, I’ve got bad news and more bad news.”

Trowa was dimly aware of Duo’s voice in the outside corridor.

“Where are Adam and Omar?” Rashid angrily demanded.

“Well, that’s the first piece of bad news - Omar bought it trying to open up the bridge even after I told him it was probably rigged to electrocute. He told me I was full of shit. And while that  _ is _ true, I was also right about the door. Then Adam kind of… blundered into a laser tripwire. Not pretty. The  _ other _ bad news is that the engines are totally done for. With a salvage crew and half a million creds worth of parts, I could get this baby moving again, but we ain’t got either of those. Say, what happened to Caleb?”

“Get your ass in the med bay and see if Barton is still alive,” Rashid growled.

“What do you mean ‘ _ still alive’? _ ” Duo’s voice was without amusement or sarcasm, a low, deadly threat.

“He’s been in there for almost five minutes, and-”

The med bay doors  _ whooshed _ open, and Trowa turned to see Duo step inside.

Duo was pale, but as soon as his eyes locked on Trowa, he sighed with relief. But then he looked past Trowa and arched an eyebrow.

“That is  _ not _ a princess.”

-o-

Translations:

_ Lèsè _ : trash


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at the end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. And to Jeff, who saved me from killing off the same character twice.

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, dub-con, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 4 _

 

Rashid had wanted to just bring the stasis capsule back to the  _ Scythe  _ and let Quatre see for himself that the only  _ treasure _ aboard the  _ Nataku _ was a beautiful naked man, but Duo had pointed out that shipping humans in stasis required a special permit and there was no way they would be able to get  _ back _ through the IF checkpoint.

Even though, eventually, Trowa, Duo and Rashid agreed to wake up the man from stasis, none of them moved to do it. 

Rashid’s earlier words, about the man who had gone insane, rang through Trowa’s head. 

But then Hamza, taking a leaf out of Rashid’s book, shoved Trowa into the stasis capsule.

“Just do it so we can get out of here,” he muttered, clearly shaken by the deaths of his comrades.

Trowa glared at him, but he too wanted to leave this ship.

Stepping close to the capsule, Trowa looked over the revive sequence. There were two options - an emergency revive that would take only a matter of minutes, and the standard sequence, designed to gradually bring the person out of stasis over the course of sixteen hours.

Still thinking of the man who had gone insane, Trowa hesitated. They didn’t have sixteen hours to spare, but -

“Get  _ on _ with it,” Rashid hissed.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand over the keypad on the side. 

As he typed in the sequence for an emergency revival, he felt a sudden, sharp prick.

He pulled his hand away and saw a drop of blood welling to the top of his index finger. He resisted the urge to suck on it, and he wondered - had he just been poisoned? Was this yet another booby trap? Was he about to die?

Trowa tried to keep himself from freaking out, tried to keep himself from envisioning a horrible virus coursing through his veins and working to kill him even as he stood there.

For a moment, absolutely nothing happened and Trowa was convinced that the beautiful man was dead - and that Trowa would soon be just as dead.

There was a sudden flare of light in the already bright medbay, the ship shuddered beneath their feet and for a heartbeat, it seemed to be humming with power. 

And then the lights dimmed, the hum vanished, and they were left standing still and silent in the med bay once again.

The stasis capsule beeped several times, a rhythmic series that meant absolutely nothing to Trowa, and then the glass front retracted.

Duo, Rashid and Hamza were looking on with wide eyes.

Trowa couldn’t help but think back to something Duo had said to him, years ago, when they had just barely survived a job that had gone bad.

_ A pretty boy is going to be the death of you, Barton _ .

He cradled his hand and wondered if  _ now _ was going to be the time when Duo’s prophecy was fulfilled.

Several minutes passed, and Trowa was aware that he wasn’t the only one having trouble drawing in a decent breath. 

The body in front of them, despite being exposed to the ship’s oxygen, despite the repeated beeping, wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing at all.

“Do you think… is he dead?” Duo asked, moving forward to gingerly poke the man’s arm. 

There was no reaction.

“We can’t come back with a  _ corpse _ and tell Master Quatre that is all we could find!” Rashid was more on edge, more anxious, than Trowa had ever seen him before.

“We could just take a vid,” Duo suggested. “That way we don’t have to haul a dead guy aboard my ship.”

They started to bicker, but Trowa tuned them out.

This wasn’t right. It wasn’t -

Acting on instinct, Trowa stepped forward and scooped up the man.

“Tro, what the hell are you -”

“Move,” Trowa elbowed Duo out of the way and laid the man down on one of the exam tables. 

Trowa tilted the man’s head back, opened his lips and gently pinched his nose closed.

He lowered his lips to the cold, smooth lips of the man and slowly breathed in.

“For fuck’s sake, Tro - you have to do chest compressions first,” Duo muttered, and stepped up. Trowa watched as Duo fitted his palm over the man’s chest, and then curled his other hand around it to form a fist before starting to press downwards. Duo counted under his breath, lips barely moving, but then he nodded to Trowa.

“Try again. Two breaths.”

Trowa followed his instructions, but nothing happened.

Duo continued the compressions, signalled Trowa again.

Trowa pushed air into the man’s lungs, willing him to wake up, willing him to move, willing him to -

The lips under his moved and Trowa instantly drew back.

Wide, dark eyes stared at him and the man drew in a gasping breath.

The man was still for another moment, looking around the room, his pulse jumping in his throat and his body shuddering. And then he saw Rashid and Hamza.

He exploded into motion, shoving past both Duo and Trowa and lunging for Hamza.

The man grabbed Hamza by the collar of his enviro suit and slammed him into the nearest exam table. 

Trowa winced at the sound of Hamza’s skull impacting with the table, but he made no move to intervene.

Neither did Duo.

Neither, curiously, did Rashid. The Maganac leader seemed momentarily frozen and by the time he recovered himself, Hamza was dead and the naked man’s hands and chest were bloody.

He advanced on Rashid.

But Rashid, bigger and stronger and  _ not _ coming off a two hundred year stasis, fought back, fending off the man’s first and second attacks and then wrapping his beefy hands around the man’s throat in a stranglehold.

“Rashid!” Trowa shouted. “You can’t kill him!”

“Just watch me,” the Mag growled, face red and teeth gritted.

“Quatre will want him alive.”

It took a moment, Rashid continuing to try to choke the life out of the man while he swung wildly with fists and legs, but then Rashid threw him away, like a doll.

The man landed against a wall of cabinets, and he seemed momentarily dazed. But then he was pulling himself back up, looking at Rashid with hatred in his eyes.

“This is my kind of guy,” Duo muttered, and he was grinning broadly.

Trowa had to sit on the man to restrain him, to keep him from going after Rashid.

The man fought him, shoving at Trowa but Trowa outweighed him by several kilos. He grabbed his arms and held him down.

“ _ Lěngjìng _ ,” he whispered, trying to sound as soothing as he could. “ _ Nǐ yǐjīng shuìzhele èrbǎi nián.” _

The man’s eyes widened and then narrowed as Trowa explained what was happening.

“ _ Nà rén huì shāle nǐ. Tā wèi nǐ de dírén. _ ”

The man sneered.

“English!” Rashid demanded. “Don’t go trying to plot something with that bastard. What did you tell him?”

The man’s gaze sharpened as he looked between Rashid, Trowa and Duo.

“I told him to calm down, and I explained that he had been in stasis for two hundred years.” Trowa left out the part where he had warned the man that Rashid would kill him, that he worked for his enemy - and Duo didn’t seem inclined to fill that part in either.

Rashid moved over and shoved Trowa away from the man before hauling him up by his shoulder.

“We came here to collect the Chang clan’s treasure for Quatre Winner,” Rashid snarled. “And I’ve lost good men just to discover this ship is  _ empty. _ Except for  _ you _ .”

The man glared up at Rashid, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the name Winner.

“I hardly think they were  _ good _ men if they were in your company,” he said, his voice calm, the words precise.

Duo choked on a laugh, and even Trowa had to fight back a smirk.

“You little yellow bastard, I am going to  _ enjoy _ watching Master Quatre take you apart.”

It would be a shame, Trowa couldn’t help but think, for the man’s perfect body to be destroyed by Quatre’s ire.

“You got a name?” Rashid demanded.

The man sniffed. “Of course I do.”

Rashid looked apoplectic, and Trowa wondered if, between this man and Duo, Rashid would get an aneurysm. He hoped so.

“ _ What is it? _ ” Rashid demanded.

The man looked like he would rather cut out his own tongue before answering.

“It’s obviously Chang,” Duo sighed. “So let’s just leave it at that and save swapping life stories for when we  _ aren’t _ hanging out in an ancient death trap?” he suggested.

 

-o-

 

Back aboard the  _ Scythe _ , Trowa had the completely irreverent thought that there was much more room now that they were leaving behind six dead Mags.

It still left them vastly outnumbered - and while it was clear that Chang recognized the Mags as enemies, Trowa wasn’t entirely certain that he viewed Duo and Trowa as  _ allies _ .

It mattered very little. As soon as they returned to the  _ Scythe _ , Rashid had his men throw Chang into one of their dead comrade’s bunks and lock him in.

Duo made the return trip to the IF checkpoint in near record time - now that they weren’t looking for an ancient warship in the Belt, all he had to do was avoid  _ Scythe _ getting pulverized.

They were an hour out when Trowa realized they still had a problem.

Chang had been woken up from stasis because they didn’t have a permit to transport that kind of cargo.

But now, Chang was awake - and he had no ID papers.

“Not a problem,” Duo said when Trowa spoke up. He turned to a side console and started to pull up the IF archives, clearly intending to slice into them.

“No,” Rashid stopped him.

Trowa and Duo both turned questioning looks on him.

“Myron will do it,” Rashid gestured to the other Mag in the cockpit.

“Uh, it’s not a problem. It’ll take me just -”

“I’m sure it isn’t a problem. Just like I’m sure you will take the opportunity to leave all sorts of inaccuracies and red flags so that the IF guards take him into custody.”

Duo released an offended gasp.

“I would  _ never _ !”

Rashid merely glared, and he gestured to Myron again. The young Mag sat down in front of the console and started to pull up files.

“Hey, you’re not bad at that,” Duo said, one eye on the Mag, the other on the viewport.

“Going to offer me a job?” Myron asked sarcastically.

Duo snorted. “Hell no. I’ll be happy to offer you a gun to shoot yourself with, though.”

Myron ignored him, typing away, and then turned to Rashid.

“Name?”

Rashid frowned.

“We can’t call him Chang… There hasn’t been one in two hundred years… Long.”

“First name?”

Rashid’s thin lips curled upwards. “Treasure.”

Trowa rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t as if he could pick a fight over a  _ name _ .

A few minutes more, and Myron stood up.

“Done. He’s in the system, registered as having travelled to M44M a few months ago.”

“Good.” Rashid turned towards Trowa and Duo. “If either of you does  _ anything _ to jeopardize our return to L4, Quatre will have your women butchered. So do  _ not _ attempt anything coy with your IF buddy,” he added with a sneer in Trowa’s direction.

“What if he tries something brazen?” Duo asked.

Rashid cuffed him sharply. Clearly, he was done with Duo’s snark and, the end of the Belt so near, felt no need to restrain himself.

They were five kilometers from the IF checkpoint when they were hailed.

“Freighter 007181, hold at your current position and identify yourself.”

Trowa idly wondered if it was the same soldier who had queried them the first time through.

“This is Freighter 007181, registered as  _ Death’s Scythe _ .” Duo sounded tired, impatient, and Trowa wondered what was going through his partner’s head. 

Unlike Trowa, who had managed a few hours of sleep on their way to the  _ Nataku _ , Duo had been awake ever since they neared the Belt. 

A tired Duo was an even more belligerent than normal Duo, and Trowa had very serious doubts that they would make it through the checkpoint without incident.

“Hold position there and prepare to be boarded,” the same voice instructed a moment later.

They made their way down to the hold and waited for the IF boarding party to come through the airlock.

A squad of six soldiers appeared, but there was no Heero.

Duo sighed. “Guess Captain Sexy Beast doesn’t want to see you again, Tro?”

Trowa found himself both relieved and weirdly hurt by that knowledge.

One of the soldiers stepped forward and signalled to the rest. 

“Inspect the ship. If there is anything suspicious, report back.”

“Where’s Captain Yuy?” Duo asked the soldier once the rest of his squad had left to inspect  _ Scythe _ . “Having his nails done or something?”

The soldier merely glared at Duo but refused to answer.

A moment later, the comm on the soldier’s shoulder crackled.

“Sir, we have a situation.”

The soldier in front of them sighed and thumbed on the comm.

“What  _ kind _ of a situation?” He sounded irritated, as though convinced the only situation possible was one created by the incompetence of his own subordinates.

“Uh, well… there’s a, uh… there’s a naked man.”

The soldier closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ _ And _ ?”

“He doesn’t have any ID on him.”

“Bring him to me.”

The soldier turned off the comm unit and gave Trowa and Duo a sharp look.

“Why is there a naked man without ID papers on your ship?”

“Well, if he’s naked, he doesn’t have any pockets or anywhere to put them, does he?” Duo responded without hesitation.

Predictably, the soldier’s hands tightened into fists.

There was the clatter of boot heels and then, a moment later, the IF soldiers returned, Chang between them and the rest of the Mags on their heels.

Chang pulled free of the IF guards and stood on his own, spine painfully straight, dark eyes ablaze.

“Who are you?” the soldier in charge demanded.

Chang remained silent.

The soldier sighed and turned his comm unit back on.

“Sir, we have a situation.”

Silence, and then -

“What  _ kind _ of a situation?” Trowa recognized the voice as Heero’s, and he felt a faint thread of amusement at Heero’s clear irritation.

The soldier sighed and closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he had to say next.

“There is a naked man without any ID papers.”

There was a long pause, during which the soldier seemed to be holding his breath as he contemplated the end of his career.

“I’m on my way.”

It was a tense few minutes, the Mags glaring daggers at Chang, the IF, Duo and Trowa; the IF soldiers anxiously fiddling with their guns as they sensed that  _ something _ was very clearly not right; Chang glaring ahead; Duo whistling a filthy spacer drinking song; Rashid glaring daggers at Duo; Trowa wondering why the hell no one had bothered to give Chang something to wear.

Finally, the airlock opened again and two figures stepped through.

Heero and -

“Governor Meat Packer!” Duo sounded delighted to set eyes on the tall man with long blond hair at Heero’s side.

The man in question, Zechs Merquise, the Governor of Mars, narrowed his eyes at Duo. He did  _ not _ share Duo’s delight in being reacquainted.

Zech’s eyes flicked over to Trowa and his mouth tightened but he managed a curt nod.

Trowa arched an eyebrow but he nodded as well. He wondered what the hell Zechs was doing here.

Heero surveyed the situation with a scowl.

He turned to Trowa and arched an eyebrow.

“It’s good to see you again so soon,” Trowa said.

Heero frowned and then he nodded.

“Of course. Excuse me if I’m not happier to see you. I’ve been having trouble getting in touch with… my sisters.”

Heero held his gaze, and Trowa was certain he meant Cathy and Hilde. Certain he meant that they weren’t safe.

He nodded, grateful for the warning.

“What happened to that large disaster of a ship you intended to bring through?” Heero asked.

Rashid’s glare was nuclear.

“Well, you see,” Duo stepped in, “there was a card game and uh, you know how well I gamble…”

Speaking of gambles, Duo was doing it with that very statement. Trowa, who had first met Duo when he stumbled upon the then scrawny boy sharking a few drunk spacers out of their credits during a back alley card game before getting his ass kicked by the much larger men, knew that Duo gambled  _ very _ ,  _ very _ well. 

Heero had lost more than a few games of cards with Duo.

Duo might as well have waved his arms over his head and shouted ‘danger!’

Except… Zechs, Rashid and the rest of the Mags didn’t seem at all alarmed by Duo’s blatant lie.

Which meant that they had never played cards with Duo. Trowa frowned and thought about that. It was possible - hell, the more he considered, he realized it was  _ likely _ . Duo hated the Mags more than Trowa, always had, and he had avoided them at all costs when they worked for Quatre. And Zechs would likely have had Duo beaten for sport before playing a game of cards with him.

“You lost a ship in a card game?” Zechs asked with a sneer.

Duo shrugged helplessly but nodded.

“Win some, lose some.”

Heero’s lips pursed, but he turned away and gestured to Chang.

“Where are this man’s papers? And where are his  _ clothes _ ?” Heero demanded.

“He lost his papers,” Rashid said smoothly.

“Another card game?” Heero asked sarcastically.

“Ah -” Duo started to respond.

“No,” Rashid cut in. “There was a miscommunication back on X44M. But his ID is in the system. Please feel free to look him up.”

Heero scowled but he gestured to the soldier in charge of the original boarding party. He obligingly pulled out a datapad.

“Name?” Heero asked.

Chang remained silent.

“His name is Treasure Long,” Rashid said helpfully.

Heero’s lips quirked as he looked over Chang’s naked body.

“Is it?”

Chang, his eyes so full of anger that Trowa wouldn’t be surprised if they caught fire, nodded.

“Not very talkative, is he?” Zechs mused.

“Just wait til you get him drunk,” Duo suggested. “Then he won’t shut up.”

“Are you sure you aren’t thinking about yourself?” Zechs countered.

Duo merely grinned. “Gov, you  _ know _ I don’t need to be drunk to run my mouth off.”

Zechs made a sound of agreement.

The soldier passed the datapad to Heero, who took it and scanned through the information and then looked over at Trowa with a glare.

“You went to X44M to pick up a  _ ji bu _ ?” His voice was hot with accusation.

Trowa looked past him, to Rashid, who offered him a sneer.

_ Bastard _ .

“We went to pick up a ship. Duo lost it, I thought we might as well not come back empty-handed and… Mr. Long wanted to get out.” Trowa could not bring himself to call Chang  _ Treasure _ .

“Is he for your entire crew?”

Rashid started to open his mouth, but Trowa spoke first.

“Of course he’s not for my entire crew.”

Heero’s eyes turned glacial, but Zechs arched an eyebrow.

“I never thought you were the type to have a  _ ji bu _ , Barton,” Zechs mused. “In fact, I seem to recall that you have  _ feelings _ about sex slaves.”

“A  _ ji bu _ isn’t a sex slave,” Duo pointed out. “He - he signed a contract of his own free will.” Duo’s voice faltered on the lie. Chang had  _ not _ entered into this willingly. None of them had.

“You didn’t used to make such distinctions,” Zechs’ eyes gleamed, and it was clear he knew that something was not right.

“Yeah, well, he  _ used _ to think fucking you was fun. Things change,” Duo muttered.

Zechs flushed angrily, and Heero… Heero was now glaring at a bulkhead behind Trowa with such concentration that a vein throbbed in his temple.

“I can’t help but notice that you haven’t actually answered my question,” Zechs said smoothly, his voice barely betraying his anger. “Is he _your_ _ji bu_ , Barton? Perhaps I should ask him?”

Zechs turned to Chang and arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

There was an agonizing moment of silence, and Trowa couldn’t decide if he wanted Chang to confirm or deny it. If he denied it, they would all be taken into custody and Quatre would kill Cathy and Hilde. If he confirmed it, they would probably be allowed to continue on their way back to Quatre, where there was still every chance that Cathy and Hilde - as well Duo, Trowa and Chang - would be killed.

“I am,” Chang said in his precise English.

“Prove it.”

“ _ What _ ?” Trowa demanded.

Zechs looked between him and Chang.

“Something is not quite right here - and I think everyone present knows how easily you can lie. I find it impossible to believe that this man this -  _ Treasure _ \- is your  _ ji bu _ .”

Chang looked over at Trowa, and his expression made it clear that there was absolutely  _ no _ way he would stoop to proving he was Trowa’s  _ ji bu _ .

Rashid gave Trowa his most threatening look. 

Trowa sighed, and he held out a hand to Chang.

“Come here.”

Chang’s eyes widened, and Duo, standing to Trowa’s left, made a movement as if he planned to intercede.

So Trowa stepped forward and then knelt down in front of Chang.

He drew in a deep breath, said a silent apology to the man in front of him, and then reached out to touch his hips.

Chang startled under his touch, jumping as Trowa’s fingers edged over his perfectly smooth skin. Trowa kept his touch light but firm, apologizing with each caress of his fingers.

Chang rocked on his feet, then leaned into Trowa’s touch as Trowa smoothed his hands down, over his firm thighs. Chang’s muscles quivered and the man’s entire body trembled.

Trowa leaned forward and he pressed a kiss to Chang’s thigh, his skin like warm silk against Trowa’s lips.

Trowa parted his lips and dragged his tongue over the same spot. He shifted his hands to hold Chang steady, moving his hands back to his hips and bracing him as Chang made a low sound in the back of this throat, and it was so unexpected, so primal and raw, that Trowa felt his heart skitter to a momentary halt.

He bit into Chang’s thigh, gently, and laved at the spot before he trailed his tongue and teeth upwards, towards the dark thatch of curls, the pale, heavy scrotum nestled there and the flaccid cock resting atop.

Chang smelled clean - too clean, practically sterile, and his skin also had the aftertaste of antibiotics. Trowa had never really considered what kind of preparation went into putting someone into stasis, had never really considered what someone would  _ taste _ like coming out of it.

As Trowa neared the other man’s cock, he chanced a look upwards and found Chang’s eyes were closed, his lips pinched, and he looked completely miserable.

Trowa could sympathize. 

Chang was two hundred years old, had just been awakened from stasis by people intent on bringing him to the man whose family had engineered the destruction of seven billion people, and was now being molested in front of strangers that he had no cause to feel anything towards but hate.

Trowa turned his head and nuzzled against Chang’s thigh, pressing another light kiss there before he discreetly pinched Chang’s hip.

The other man’s eyes snapped open, and he glared down at Trowa.

Trowa met his gaze and held it. He didn’t dare risk speaking, didn’t dare ask aloud for Chang’s permission to continue this farce - but he looked at the other man and silently begged him.

Chang swallowed hard, but he put one hand on Trowa’s head, ran his fingers through his hair, and guided Trowa’s head towards his cock.

Gratefully, Trowa squeezed his hips.

In other circumstances, Trowa would have taken his time - would have savored the chance to have this perfect man under his hands and mouth - in other circumstances, Trowa would not have an audience of enemies, or his best friend, or his former lovers.

Trowa parted his lips and took Chang’s flaccid cock into his mouth. Chang’s fingers dug into his scalp, and Trowa closed his lips over the smooth, soft flesh. 

He moved one hand down to Chang’s scrotum, gently fondling while he sucked on his cock, swirling his tongue around the flesh and feeling it grow hard.

Once he had Chang erect, Trowa had to lean back, had to draw in a deep breath, and then he set about getting Chang off as quickly as possible, begging for forgiveness with each forward bob of his head, each flick of his tongue, each drag of his teeth.

Unexpectedly, Chang’s hips flexed and he thrust forward into Trowa’s mouth, almost choking him. Trowa recovered and held him tighter, pushing on Chang’s hip, letting him know that he could move again.

Chang did, the thrust shallower, more controlled, and Trowa had no trouble taking his cock deeper.

Between Chang’s thrusts and Trowa’s own ministrations, it wasn’t long before the man was trembling, his ragged breathing audible even over the pounding of Trowa’s own heart, and his fingers were pulling at Trowa’s hair so tightly that it hurt.

“ _ Ó, shàngdì, gǎnjué  _ -” Chang groaned, and it was the only warning Trowa had before he felt the hot, salty release spill down his throat. He swallowed as much as he could, gentling his touch when Chang shuddered. After a moment, Chang pushed at his head, and Trowa released his cock and sat back on his heels.

Chang’s face was red, his eyes still closed, his lips parted to draw in harsh breaths.

Slowly, in no hurry to see the looks on the faces around him, Trowa rose to his feet.

Duo, just in Trowa’s peripheral vision, made a gesture towards his mouth.

Trowa wiped his lips with the back of his hand, saw the smear of semen, and sighed. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked it clean. 

And then he turned to face Zechs and Heero.

“Satisfied?” he demanded. 

“Not as much as he is,” Zechs murmured, his eyes a little glazed and his cheeks slightly flushed. He shook his head and then frowned. “But do you really expect me to believe that you are paying  _ him _ to do  _ that _ when you have an entire crew of -” Zechs gestured.

Trowa sneered. “None of them are my type.”

Zechs very pointedly looked at Duo.

“Hey, you know I only like girls, Gov. We had a  _ long _ discussion about this last time, didn’t we?”

Zechs made an irritated sound, but then he turned to Heero.

“Captain?”

Heero looked ready to beat Trowa to within an inch of his life.

“Everything appears to be in order,” he bit out. “We’ll… leave you to it.”

“Hey, wait a sec,” Duo called out as the IF soldiers started to move towards the airlock, “why aren’t you on Mars?”

Zechs gave him a tight smile. “A family emergency. Nothing to trouble yourself over.”

And with that, they left.

A moment later,  _ Scythe _ shuddered as the boarding shuttle disengaged and Rashid gestured to the Mags. Two stepped forward to grab Chang, one grabbed Duo, and two more grabbed Trowa.

“What the hell?” Duo demanded, struggling against Myron’s hold on him.

“You’ve all fulfilled your usefulness to us - we are clear of the Asteroid Belt, clear of the IF checkpoint - and my men have a wager to see just how quickly your bodies will freeze when we jettison them.”

Trowa should have seen it coming.

Duo, instead of looking furious, instead of struggling even more, merely grinned.

“That’s too bad,” he said, his tone a clear taunt.

Rashid frowned.

“What is?”

Duo nodded and managed to shrug despite Myron’s grip on his shoulders. 

“The fact that you’re planning to space the only two people on this ship who know how to cancel the self-destruct sequence.”

Rashid shook his head.

“But why would I initiate it in the first place?”

“I dunno. But I know why  _ I _ did before we left the cockpit. By my count… you’ve got about seven minutes before the  _ Scythe _ blows.” He looked over at Chang. “Sorry, buddy. I’d make a joke about how much this sucks but, uh…” Duo flushed and trailed off.

Chang glared at him.

“What do you want?” Rashid growled.

“For starters, I want this hulk to let me  _ go _ ,” Duo shoved an elbow into Myron’s gut and the Mag released him with a grunt.

“We made a deal with Q - and that deal involved us returning and getting to walk away. It’s not our fault there was no treasure, not our fault the ship couldn’t be salvaged.”

It suddenly occurred to Trowa that they only had Duo’s word for that last part -  _ both _ of his guards had died and in any case, none of the Mags was a mechanic worth a damn. Only Trowa and Duo knew their way around a ship’s innards.

“Very well. We won’t kill you. But you, Maxwell, will keep your bony ass in that cockpit and Myron will see to it that nothing unexpected happens. You, Barton, can keep  _ Treasure _ company in one of the empty bunks. And if anything happens - anything that results in the death or injury of more of my men - I’ll take my chances with the damn self-destruct and space you.”

 

-o-

 

Translations:

_ Lěngjìng _ : Calm down.

_ Nǐ yǐjīng shuìzhele èrbǎi nián _ : You have been asleep for two hundred years.

_ Nà rén huì shāle nǐ _ : That man will kill you.

_ Tā wèi nǐ de dírén _ : He works for your enemy.

_ Ó, shàngdì, gǎnjué _ : Oh God, that feels -

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at the end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, dub-con, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 5 _

 

Trowa was shoved into the empty bunk none too gently, and he only had time to turn around before Chang was  _ tossed _ in after him.

It seemed like the Mags were taking it rather personally that so many of their friends had died on the  _ Nataku _ . 

Trowa couldn’t really blame them for that, but when he ended up on his back, an angry naked man braced above him and glaring down at him, Trowa  _ could _ blame them for being complete assholes.

One of them muttered something under his breath, and the two Mags laughed before the bunk door closed and the lock engaged.

Slowly, furiously, Chang moved away from Trowa and stood up.

After a moment, Chang extended a hand. Trowa stared at it, unable to figure out what it meant, but then Chang sighed and grabbed Trowa’s arm and hauled him up to his feet.

“ _ Dùi bu qǐ, dōu guài wǒ _ ,” Trowa had to apologize.

Chang winced and shook his head.

“Stop- Don’t- don’t  _ ever _ mention it again,” Chang commanded in his precise English.

Trowa frowned, but he nodded. If that was how Chang wanted to deal with it, he wasn’t about to interfere. Trowa just knew that  _ he _ wouldn’t be able to dismiss it from his mind, knew that he would be remembering the feel and taste of the other man, the way he had shuddered, the sound of his voice raw with need, for a long time.

_ “Tāmen wèishéme bù gěi nǐ rènhé de yīfú?”  _ Trowa asked.

Chang shook his head and held up a hand.

“Please, speak English. You speak Mandarin like an illiterate pirate.”

Trowa flushed at the insult. No one had ever derided his command of Mandarin before, but then again, Trowa spent most of his time around illiterate pirates… One of whom had first  _ taught _ Trowa Mandarin. Trowa wondered if Chang had guessed at that, or if he was just trying to be insulting.

“Why didn’t they offer you any clothes?”

Chang sneered. “I’m just a  _ ji bu _ ,” he spat.

Trowa sighed. There were, he knew, some prostitutes who did go around completely naked - but there weren’t many. Besides, Chang was most definitely  _ not _ a  _ ji bu _ .

Trowa turned and rifled through the overhead storage bins.

This bunk wasn’t one that he or Duo used. There were four empty bunks on the freighter, kept open for the rare occasions Duo and Trowa transported passengers. The Mags had taken the empty bunks, though a few of them had been forced to sleep in one of the empty cargo holds. Trowa could only assume that  _ this _ bunk had been assigned to two of the now-dead Mags.

His search turned up absolutely nothing valuable - a pair of pliers that Duo had been searching for for the past seven months, a tin of expired beans and an EVA helmet that had a cracked faceplate.

Trowa sighed.

“Do you want my clothes?” he asked, and gestured to himself.

Chang sneered. “Why? Does my nakedness offend you?”

Trowa took too long to answer that, stumbling over his immediate desire to assure Chang that offended was the  _ last _ thing Trowa was, and Chang’s eyes narrowed.

Trowa felt himself flush, like a damned teenager, and he looked away from the man’s dark eyes.

“No. I thought you might be cold.” They did, after all, keep the  _ Scythe _ pretty chilly to conserve fuel and optimize speed. Trowa knew that Duo had cranked the atmo controls even lower for this journey, no doubt hoping to annoy the Mags who were used to the luxuriously warm atmo settings on the wealthy L4 colonies.

Chang  _ had _ to be cold, but he merely lifted his chin and refused to respond.

Trowa sighed and rolled his eyes, but he lifted himself up onto one of the bunks and toed off his boots.

Chang arched an eyebrow.

“It’s going to take Duo at least a day to get us back to the L4 Sector. I know that  _ you _ just woke up from a two hundred year nap, but I could do with some rest before I have to face down these bastards again.”

Trowa stretched out on the bunk, folded his hands under his head, and stared up at the bulkhead above.

After a moment, he heard Chang shifting around, and looked over to see him sitting on the opposite bunk, legs folded, eyes closed, and it appeared he was meditating. He looked completely at peace, his smooth features slack, no anger visible. It was almost as though he was back in stasis.

“You keep staring at me,” Chang murmured, his lips barely moving.

Trowa rolled over so that he faced the opposite wall. 

“Sorry.”

Trowa wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually Chang spoke up again.

“Which one of you opened the stasis capsule?”

Trowa rolled back over and saw that Chang had moved, abandoning his earlier pose and instead, he was leaning against the wall behind his bunk, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. He looked cold.

Trowa sat up and pulled off his sweater, leaving on his thin undershirt, and tossed it to Chang.

The other man regarded it with distaste, but after a moment he pulled it on. It swallowed him, Trowa’s larger frame and the sad condition of the sweater making it fall over Chang’s knees. He looked very young and very, very fragile. 

If Trowa hadn’t seen Chang kill Hamza with nothing but his bare hands and the solid end of an exam table, he wouldn’t have thought he was capable of doing it.

“Why?” he asked.

“So I know which one of you I shouldn’t kill.”

The words were spoken without inflection or emotion of any kind, and they sent ice down Trowa’s spine. 

“Planning on murdering the rest of us?”

Chang’s lips twisted. “The Maganacs will all die, as will any Winner I encounter. They worked together to wipe out an entire  _ civilization _ . Not just my family, not just my clan - seven billion people died because of their greed. I will not allow their crimes to pass without administering justice.”

“That was two hundred years ago,” Trowa had to point out, though he had no real moral qualms with Chang wanting to kill all of the Maganacs and Winners.

Chang frowned, but then he nodded.

“Yes. For you, it was. For me, it was yesterday when the last insurgent force broke through our defenses, when my  _ wife _ was murdered in front of my very eyes.”

Chang’s anger was back in full force now, his eyes burning and his lips drawn. 

“You and your pilot-”

“Duo.”

“Duo. You and he might not be Maganacs, might not be Winners, but you are working for them. You helped them find me, and you-”

“Raped you, in front of them. In front of the Interdiction Force.”

Chang’s jaw locked, and he looked away.

“What is the Interdiction Force?”

The question took Trowa by surprise, but then he remembered that the IF hadn’t been established  _ until _ the destruction of the L5 Cluster.

He related the IF’s history to Chang, explained how the Terran government had used the colonial instability to step in and set up administrative and military arms that controlled the colonies, controlled the Moon and Mars and the Belt. Controlled, and too often suppressed and took advantage  _ of _ the colonies.

If Duo were in here, he would no doubt launch into a long-winded and very graphic list of all of the atrocities the IF had committed in the name of peace and  _ control _ .

“Why didn’t you tell them who you are?” Trowa had to ask. “You had to realize that the Mags didn’t want to give you over to them. You could have- you could have saved yourself.”

Chang sneered again. It seemed to be quite a practiced expression for him.

“The enemy lurking in the shadows is often more deadly than the one before you,” Chang murmured softly. “Besides, the Maganacs had already announced their intention to take me before the Winner patriarch. I saw no need to risk a… detour.”

Trowa snorted in amused appreciation. Chang certainly felt confident that he could and  _ would _ exact revenge.

“It was Duo,” he said. 

Chang lifted an eyebrow.

“Duo was the one - he’s the one you shouldn’t kill.”

 

-o-

 

Quatre wasn’t in the Hall of Mirrors this time.

Instead, he met them in one of the lavish gardens on his property, the sound of water cascading from numerous fountains almost drowning out the sound of his laughter when he saw the Mags leading Trowa, Duo and Chang towards him.

Despite Quatre’s clear amusement, his eyes were cold as he regarded them.

“I sent you to get a ship filled with treasure, and instead, there is no ship, no treasure, and half of my men are dead.  _ Instead, _ you bring me a worthless  _ batroun _ .” He gestured to Wufei, naked once again after he had returned Trowa’s sweater to him before the Mags escorted them from the  _ Scythe _ .

Duo shrugged. “You know what they say - one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

Everyone glared at him, but Duo, clearly exhausted and beyond caring at all, simply stared at one of the fountains beyond Quatre.

“Give me  _ one _ reason why I shouldn’t kill all of you right now, and then torture Hilde and Cathy so thoroughly they will beg me to put an end to their lives,” Quatre demanded.

Duo shrugged again. “Old times’ sake?”

Quatre sneered, but before he could speak up, Chang stepped forward.

“You wanted the fabled treasures of the Chang clan? The secrets to their wealth and technology?”

Quatre, a wary look on his face, nodded slowly.

“Yes. But my men report that the only thing they found on the  _ Nataku _ was  _ you _ .” Quatre flicked his eyes over Chang’s naked body, and his lips curled. “I had always heard there was a  _ princess _ frozen on the ship. I suppose it is fortunate for Trowa that that was not the case.”

Trowa flushed, though he wasn’t surprised that Rashid had passed on  _ everything _ to Quatre. Of course Quatre would take pleasure in Trowa’s humiliation - in Chang’s.

“And as  _ thrilled _ as I am that Trowa was able to make use of your body, I certainly see no purpose for your continued existence.”

Chang seemed unmoved by Quatre, and Trowa wondered if Chang was simply underestimating Quatre as an opponent or simply didn’t  _ care _ how dangerous he was.

Chang shrugged, the movement languid and sensual.

“Very well. Then the treasures and secrets of the Chang clan will die with me.”

Quatre’s eyes narrowed, both at Chang and at Duo, who let out a bark of laughter.

“Tell me,” Quatre demanded.

“I could tell you where we hid them from  _ you _ , but you will no doubt die in the attempt to get them. How many men  _ did _ you lose on the  _ Nataku _ just to retrieve  _ me _ ?”

It was mesmerizing, and terrifying, to watch the two men face each other down. Quatre was so collected, so cold and  _ still, _ while Chang seemed to be vibrating with anger, his eyes blazing with it.

“You will take me to the cache… in exchange for what?” Trowa could  _ see _ the greed in Quatre’s eyes, but the blond haired man was too astute, too practiced in deceit, to know that nothing came without a price.

“I want all of your Maganacs executed.”

Trowa expected Quatre to flatly deny the request, but instead, he stared at Chang and seemed to be carefully considering the proposition.

“Why?” Quatre asked eventually.

Chang sneered. “Their entire order was established to destroy  _ my _ people. You might not know, might not  _ recall _ , but the Maganac Corps was created on Terra as a band of assassins whose sole purpose was to wipe out the Chang clan. They failed then, but they succeeded two hundred years ago. I want them gone.”

“And what about  _ me _ ? It was my distant relatives who provided the funds and the motivation for the Maganacs.”

Chang’s lips curled, and he flicked a bitter glance in Trowa’s direction.

“It has been pointed out to me that  _ you _ did not commit genocide. I am also not an idiot. I am the last of my line and it is my duty to live. I cannot do that if I allow you to execute me. So, a fair trade.”

Rashid, judging by the dark look on his face, hardly thought it was fair. Trowa couldn’t see the expression on the other Mags’ faces, but he was willing to bet  _ they _ didn’t feel it was fair either.

“Rashid,” Quatre called out, his voice soft but there was steel in it.

“Master Quatre!”

“ _ Rashid _ ,” Quatre repeated. “Gather the men. Remind them of their oath and assure them that their families will be given a share of the treasure.”

Rashid hesitated a moment longer, his face twisted in pain.

“What about them?” He gestured to Trowa and Duo.

“They aren’t going anywhere,” Quatre assured him with a smile. “Not while I still have Hilde and Cathy under my… protection.”

Apparently out of excuses, Rashid moved away from Quatre, and the Mags that had been restraining Trowa and Duo fell into step behind him.

Duo let out a low whistle. “Gotta admire that blind obedience.”

Quatre arched an eyebrow. “ _ You _ admire blind obedience?”

Duo shrugged. “I didn’t say that  _ I _ wanted to be blindly obedient. That’s a quick way to die.”

Quatre smiled. “Don’t worry, Duo, I can promise you now that your death will  _ not _ be quick.”

Trowa’s partner nodded, and snapped the fingers of his left hand together. “Right back at you, Q. Right back at you.”

Quatre turned from Duo and focused once again on Chang.

“After the Maganacs are dealt with, you will take me to the cache?”

Chang nodded. “I will need him,” he gestured towards Duo.

Duo lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “ _ Me _ ?” He groaned. “Oh please don’t tell me this is going to be another ‘we need a pilot who can fly through a supernova without getting the paint on the ship scratched’ kind of thing. Because I haven’t slept in  _ days, _ and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t dodge a  _ planet _ at this point, much less-”

“No. I don’t need you as a pilot.”

Chang’s words offered absolutely no clarity.

“Er, well, in that case… I’m gonna need Trowa. Not that I don’t trust you or anything, Q, but, well, I don’t fucking trust you.”

Quatre rolled his eyes. “As if I didn’t know that was coming.” He turned back to Chang. “Any other requests? Perhaps some  _ clothes _ ?”

Chang sneered and opened his mouth to retort, but Duo spoke over him.

“Actually, yeah, we need a girl - a woman.”

Quatre sighed. “Oh please, Duo. If you’re jealous about Trowa getting to fuck in public, deal with it later. Your libido is not-”

“No, no. Chang said we need a woman. We were talking about the cache, about how to get past the security measures - and he said some of them were coded to-”

“I am  _ not _ letting Hilde free.” Quatre looked at Chang. “Is this true? You really need a woman?”

Chang looked over at Duo, silent and considering, but after a moment he nodded.

“Very well. One of my sisters-”

“No,” Chang and Duo spoke up at the same time.

“It cannot be a Winner,” Chang explained with a sneer.

Quatre shrugged. “Very well. Relena will accompany us.”

Trowa wasn’t sure whether he was imagining it, but he thought he saw Duo’s shoulders slump in relief.

 

-o-

 

Translations:

_ Dùi bu qǐ, dōu guài wǒ _ : I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.

_ Tāmen wèishéme bù gěi nǐ rènhé de yīfú _ : Why didn’t they give you any clothes?

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at the end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, dub-con, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 6 _

 

It took the better part of a day to travel from the L4 Sector to the L5 Debris Cluster. Quatre had laughed at the suggestion they take the  _ Scythe, _ and Rashid, who had elected to not include himself in the Maganac slaughter, had muttered something about never stepping foot on that tin can again. 

Duo’s muttered, “That can be arranged,” was more habit than anything else, as he seemed dead on his feet and offered no protest when Quatre insisted they take the  _ Sandrock _ , a pleasure yacht that both Duo and Trowa were all too familiar with.

“Trowa can pilot the shuttle, and he will need Chang.” Quatre paused and raked considering eyes over the other man. 

He was finally clothed, looking ill at ease in the traditional desert garb that Quatre preferred to wear. Trowa couldn’t help but admire the way the white tunic and loose linen pants hung on his body, but he could certainly appreciate Chang’s dislike of his enemy’s clothing.

“Then again,” Quatre murmured, tapping one finger on his own lips, “Trowa doesn’t need Chang  _ yet _ . Perhaps he can keep me entertained.”

Trowa stepped forward without thinking, trying to put himself between the two men, and Quatre regarded him with amusement.

“Oh? You don’t like the idea of sharing your  _ ji bu _ ?” he asked.

“He’s not-”

“If you even attempt to lay a hand on me, I will ensure that you are the absolute last of your line,” Chang spoke up, voice deadly, making it clear that he didn’t need Trowa’s intercession at all.

Quatre laughed and shook his head.

“You two  _ are _ quite the well-matched set. Very well. Rashid will escort you to the cockpit and make sure everything goes as it should.”

He turned to regard Duo and Relena.

“I’ll trust you to keep an eye on her,” Quatre said.

Duo laughed and lifted his eyebrows.

“You’ll  _ what _ ?”

Quatre tilted one of his own eyebrows at Duo’s tone.

“If you allow her to escape, I will kill Hilde. If you allow her to contact  _ anyone _ , I will kill Hilde. If you so much as  _ think _ about laying a hand on her, I-”

Duo held up a hand.

“I got it. You’ll kill Hilde.”

“No. I trust you remember what happened with Iria.”

Duo’s entire body seemed to slump.

They had only been working for Quatre for a few months, had just come back from a cargo run, and Quatre had been in a mood, had decided to take it out on Duo when he offered up one comeback too many, and Iria, the sister closest to Quatre in age and furthest from him in temperament, had come to Duo’s aid. She had wiped the blood from his face, had admonished Quatre gently, and somehow he had allowed it. 

Trowa didn’t know how Duo and Iria had managed to keep it hidden for so long, but eight months later, Quatre took vicious pleasure in telling Duo that Iria had been killed, on his orders, for debasing herself.

“Well?”Quatre prompted.

Duo swallowed hard, looked away from Quatre, and nodded.

“Good.”

Confident that his orders would be carried out, Quatre turned on his heel and headed towards the mess hall.

Perhaps ordering the murder of his most faithful servants had given him an appetite.

Trowa led the way to the cockpit, Chang on his heels, Rashid bringing up the rear.

He settled himself in the pilot’s chair and glanced over the familiar control panel. He initiated the launch sequence from memory.

While Duo was by far the superior pilot, Trowa knew how to fly, and he had spent countless hours in this very cockpit, shuttling Quatre around the Earth-Sphere, moving illicit cargo, evading IF patrols.

He quickly computed their flight path. He could, he knew, take them around the Earth’s orbit, using the larger gravitational mass to slingshot them towards the L5 Debris Cluster and save time and fuel. Or he could take the traditional approach, a straight line that would take them between the Sun and Earth. It wasn’t as quick, but then, Trowa wasn’t sure that shaving a few hours off of their flight was so important. Perhaps it might even be  _ better _ to take the longer route - it would certainly give Trowa and Duo more time to figure out how the hell to get out of this. 

Chang stood, looking over his shoulder, and he arched an eyebrow as Trowa typed in the coordinates for the longer route. Trowa turned to him, but Chang merely nodded and stepped back.

Trowa wasn’t entirely sure what that meant - except that Chang clearly knew that there was another route they could have taken.

Nav loaded and flight systems ready, Trowa eased the  _ Sandrock _ out of her berth and into space.

One of the perks of being a ruthless dictator over your sector was that you didn’t have to go through any administrative red tape when you wanted to launch.

They weren’t even queried as they pulled away, and Trowa angled the  _ Rock _ for space and pushed her speed up to intergrav cruising.

And then he settled in to wait. 

“I don’t suppose you play chess?” Trowa asked, turning to Chang and arching an eyebrow.

“It’s been… awhile since I’ve played,” Chang murmured, and it took Trowa a second to realize he was making a joke. 

He was startled into laughing, and felt ridiculously pleased when Chang offered a smug little smirk in his direction.

Rashid, lounging on the passenger couch at the back of the cockpit, muttered something under his breath that Trowa didn’t even need to hear to know it was derogatory.

Chang flushed, but he sat down in the co-pilot’s chair, and Trowa pulled up the holographic chess game that he himself had loaded into the  _ Rock’s _ system years ago.

Duo had been his most frequent opponent, the two of them playing to pass the time during long flights, and Trowa’s partner played the game with the same kind of recklessness that made him so easy to underestimate - that made him so dangerous an opponent, because it was almost always too late when his rash moves were revealed to be actual strategy.

But Trowa had also played against Quatre a few times, usually after sex, occasionally as a precursor, always when Quatre experienced his too-rare desire for Trowa to be more than a body to be used.

Unlike Duo, whose strategies only became obvious after the fact, Quatre played chess with obvious precision and flair, weaving complicated gambits across the board, and more than once Trowa had beaten him just by letting Quatre defeat himself.

Chang played like neither of them. Trowa had expected him to be blunt - had expected Chang to attempt to force his way across the board with the same kind of anger that Trowa had already seen him exhibit.

He was wrong.

After Trowa lost the third game in a row - over in a paltry twenty minutes - Chang looked up at him with a smirk.

“You aren’t used to losing, are you?”

“Not at  _ this _ ,” Trowa muttered.

Chang’s lips twisted at that, but he nodded in what might have been understanding.

“Perhaps we should raise the stakes,” Chang suggested.

Trowa arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware there  _ were _ stakes at the moment.”

“There is always something at stake,” Chang murmured. “Master Long used to-” He caught himself, lips compressing into a grimace, and Trowa felt the alien urge to offer him comfort.

“What sort of stakes?” Trowa asked, trying to distract both of them. “I’m a little light on creds at the moment.” He patted the pocket of his jacket to demonstrate, and his hand encountered something unexpected.

Frowning, he reached into his pocket and curled his fingers around it.

_ Bastard _ .

Chang seemed not to notice Trowa’s change in demeanor.

“When I win, I’d like you to tell me more about your partner - Duo.”

Trowa arched an eyebrow at that, but he shrugged.

“You don’t have to win for me to do that.”

“I won’t be asking drivel like his food preferences,” Chang pointed out. “I need to know what kind of man he is,” he added, and flicked his eyes toward Rashid in warning.

Trowa nodded, wondering if this had something to do with the lie he had told about Duo opening the stasis capsule.

“When I win-”

_ “If _ ,” Chang corrected him with a small smile.

Trowa rolled his eyes.

“ _ If _ ,” he agreed, “I win, I’d like to know your name.”

Chang stilled, and Trowa was sure he would call it off, but instead, he nodded in acceptance.

“Very well.”

 

-o-

 

The L5 Debris Cluster, referred to as the Graveyard or Yard by most spacers, had been pillaged by pirates and Sweepers for the last two hundred years.

Still, no one had had the resources or interest in clearing the debris from nearly two hundred colonies and satellites that had fallen into disrepair or been destroyed in the final battles before the plague that wiped out all of the sector’s inhabitants spread and put an end to the fighting.

Asteroids and meteors had done damage to most of the intact colonies - Trowa had heard that there were only three colonies that weren’t exposed to hard vacuum leaks.

He had never done salvage in the Yard before. Duo had - once - and sworn he never would again. There was a reason, he had told Trowa, that it was called the Graveyard, and it had nothing to do with dead machinery.

“Where are we going?” Quatre asked, having made his appearance in the cockpit during their approach to the Yard and was now taking up a position directly behind Trowa’s chair.

Duo and Relena had also joined them, Duo looking like he had managed to get in at least a little sleep or a lot of caffeine.

“Can I see the nav panel?” Chang asked.

Trowa leaned to the side, making room for the other man to reach over and type in a set of coordinates. 

“There,” he said, and tapped the screen when a red sphere appeared.

Duo leaned forward.

“Can’t be right - there’s nothing at that location. At least there wasn’t anything there four years ago.”

“Perhaps your powers of observation are lacking,” Chang suggested.

Duo looked offended and he opened his mouth, but Trowa cleared his throat. Now was  _ not _ the time to pick a fight with the one man who  _ might _ not be plotting their murders.

He guided the  _ Rock _ towards the coordinates, proximity alarms going off every few minutes.

Since none of the colonies were functioning, with no power going to their gravitational generators or orbit adjustments, over the last two hundred years they had all gradually started to orbit True L5, the exact LaGrange point on which the entire sector revolved. 

It made for tricky piloting, and Trowa could  _ see _ Duo’s fingers out of the corner of his eye, tightening on the back of Chang’s chair every so often. He could feel his partner’s desire to take over, and he was actually impressed that Duo didn’t try to step in.

“See?” Duo said twenty minutes later when they were nearly on top of the coordinates Chang had programmed. “Nothing here.”

“It’s a wonder you haven’t flown into the sun,” Chang muttered under his breath.

“ _ Wángbādàn _ ,” Duo retorted.

Trowa searched the viewport, but all he could see was, remarkably, empty space. He frowned at that. They weren’t out of the Yard yet - there were still several kilometers of debris to navigate through - but he saw  _ none _ of that.

He looked over at Chang, who arched an eyebrow at him.

“You developed a cloaking device powerful enough to shield an entire  _ colony _ ?”

Chang looked smug as he nodded. 

“No fucking way,” Duo breathed and leaned closer, angling for a better view. “I’ll be damned. Look at that - dead space for,” he crouched down so he could look directly above them, “holy shit. How big  _ is _ this colony?”

“Our largest,” Chang said with pride. “And the intact cloak means that the hull hasn’t been breached by meteorites.”

Trowa frowned. “Wait, what’s powering it?”

“The sun,” Chang said, his voice and expression indicating that any child should have guessed that.

“But converting that energy-” Duo started to say, and then stopped himself. “Huh. I guess that transducer wasn’t a myth, either, was it?”

“It’s nice to know that  _ some _ truths have been passed down with all of the myths,” Chang muttered.

Duo grinned. At him. “Don’t much care for being called a princess, eh?”

Chang’s only response was a fierce glare.

Trowa flew the  _ Rock _ closer to the void in front of them, praying that they breached the cloak before they got too close. He was good, but he didn’t have Duo’s lightning quick reflexes, and it would be a shame to come so far only to have them all die as he rammed the shuttle into the colony’s hull.

Thankfully, it was only a moment later when the space in front of them shimmered and then dissolved to reveal what was, undoubtedly, the largest colony Trowa had ever seen.

And the Changs had built this two hundred years ago. Had designed a mammoth colony that was able to sustain its orbit and, presumably, had enough power to create gravity and atmo on a scale that Trowa knew most engineers only dreamed about.

“Where do I dock?” Trowa asked as the  _ Rock _ flew closer, skimming over the colony that, in addition to being larger than any Trowa had ever seen, wasn’t spherical.

Almost all colonies were spherical, though some had recently begun to explore new options that involved counter-rotating sections. This one, though...

“It’s a cylinder. No,  _ two _ cylinders,” Duo said, sounding like a kid playing with a new toy. “What- how does it work?”

“The cylinders counter-rotate - and that outer ring is for agriculture, and rotates at a different speed so that-”

“We aren’t here for an engineering lecture,” Quatre broke in. “Where are we docking?”

“Near the south - the base of the orbital mirrors. That’s where we need to be.”

Trowa angled the  _ Rock _ in that direction.

“Holy  _ fuck _ ,” Duo breathed. “Is there- are there schematics I can look at?”

“You’ll be too dead to read them,” Rashid muttered.

It was an unnecessary confirmation that Quatre would likely kill them all as soon as he no longer needed them.

“I need him,” Chang reminded them. “If you want access to your treasure, I need Duo.”

“See?” Duo taunted Rashid. “I’m special.”

Trowa eased the  _ Rock _ into a docking berth at Chang’s instruction, and then powered down the ship.

“Let’s get into EVA suits,” Quatre instructed.

“You won’t need to,” Chang stood up. “The colony’s atmospheric generator was designed to last a millennium.”

Quatre sneered. “Forgive me for not trusting my life to the word of a Chang.”

The other man’s lips twitched, but he nodded and started out of the cockpit, the others falling into step behind him.

Trowa took one last look out of the viewport, at the dim berth where he had docked, and he couldn’t help but notice that, though it was dim, the berth was  _ not _ dark. 

And as they had flown over the colony, he had seen lights dancing along the surface.

This colony was fully powered, and Trowa was willing to bet, fully habitable.

“Did you-” Duo hung back, caught his sleeve, and jerked his head towards the viewport.

Trowa nodded, but didn’t risk saying anything.

He gave Duo a significant look, hoping his partner was prepared for what waited for them.

 

-o-

 

End note: the colony is based on the O’Neill Cylinder model, which oddly enough, is the same model used in the Universal Century for Gundam. They are fascinating and I encourage you to look them up.

 

Translations:

_ wángbādàn _ : Bastard.

  
  


Please consider supporting me on Patreon (patreon dot com backslash ClaraBarton)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: For Maevemauvaise. I hope you have a lovely, lovely birthday and I want to thank you so very much for all of the support and inspiration you give me.

I wanted to write you a collection of fairy tales, but then I remembered how many lovely and talented people there are in our fandom, so I recruited them to create lovely things for you as well. So this is just one of many.

 

A/N 2: I have… problems with Sleeping Beauty, but I wanted to see if I could make it into something I liked, and I hope it’s something that  _ you _ love.

 

A/N 3: So… a futuristic sci-fi retelling, with a verse similar to Firefly/Serenity/Star Wars. Obviously AU. Translations at the end.

 

A/N 4: A HUGE thanks to Ro for beta reading this for me. 

  
  


Pairings: 3x5, background: 3x4, 1x3, 3x6, 1x6

 

Warnings: angst, language, dub-con, sexy times

 

_ Sleeping Beauty- Part 7 _

 

Trowa couldn’t decide if he was walking through a nightmare or heaven.

The colony was fully functioning - lights blazing, air circulating in the mildest and freshest of breezes, gravity just a little stronger than Trowa was used to - but it was completely empty.

Their feet echoed as they walked through the docking complex and out into an atrium. 

Trowa half-expected to see greenery - there were definitely surfaces that looked as though they had been intended for parks or at least trees - but there was  _ no _ life on the colony.

“Has it been operational this entire time?” Duo asked.

Chang hesitated, and then shook his head. “No. Not the whole time.” 

Trowa wondered at that. Wondered just what - or who? - had turned the colony on.

He stumbled, still adjusting to the gravity, and Rashid shoved the barrel of his gun into Trowa’s back sharply.

Quatre had evidently decided that the threat of killing Hilde was wearing thin on Duo, and had instructed Rashid to shoot Trowa if Duo tried to make a break for it.

Chang was leading them through the colony, Duo close behind him with Quatre holding a gun to  _ his _ back, while Relena walked between Quatre and Trowa.

They walked for maybe two kilometers - Trowa estimated that the cylinder they had landed on was nearly eight kilometers in diameter and over thirty in length - when Chang came to a stop in front of a large building.

Trowa had thought they were in a residential section - most of the buildings they had passed looked like apartment blocks - but this building was definitely not residential.

There were no windows, and it stood nearly seven stories high. The walls were an unremarkable mauve color, and there was no signage of any kind near or on the building.

“Here,” Chang breathed, his voice low, but even so Trowa could hear the ache, the raw emotion. He mounted the steps to the building’s entrance slowly, and typed in a code on the keypad beside the two-story tall doors.

For a moment, the lights on the keypad blinked, and Trowa felt Rashid’s gun dig further into his spine. 

But then the doors hissed open and Chang led them into the building. It was dark inside, and they switched on flashlights.

They were in a large foyer of some kind. It was wide and open - the ceiling almost as tall as the building itself - and Trowa suddenly felt very, very small and incredibly insignificant.

Opposite the entrance to the building there were huge banners that stretched several stories and were at least two meters wide each, all decorated with rows and rows of intricate calligraphy.

Trowa could only recognize a few of the characters - space, journey, death - but he could certainly appreciate their beauty and sheer scale.

“What do they say?” Duo asked, and Trowa was a little relieved that he couldn’t read them either.

“They tell the story of our colonization of the L5 Sector, of how we created the first successful colony that was able to sustain human life.” Chang sounded reverent. 

“What is this place?” Quatre asked, sharing none of the awe that Duo and Trowa felt.

“Our past and our future.” Chang’s response was cryptic.

He started walking again, and they all followed him, the sound of their footsteps echoing and ricocheting off the marble floor. 

They walked the length of the foyer and then into a smaller, even darker room.

As soon as he stepped in, Trowa swept his flashlight in front of him and winced as he was blinded by the reflection of the light on-

“Gold,” Quatre laughed. “How much- how much  _ is _ there?”

“Enough even for  _ you _ , I’m sure,” Chang muttered.

Quatre laughed again, the sound remarkably loud and clear.

Before them, arranged in towering piles, was enough gold bullion that Trowa started to wonder about the structural integrity of the floor.

They wandered down rows and rows of the piles - the room seemed to go on for at least a hundred meters. 

Finally, they came to a stop at the opposite end of the room.

“Well, I can only assume that you needed Duo and Relena along for their… company? I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to appreciate them. But now that you’ve brought me here, I have no more use for them.” Quatre moved his gun up to the base of Duo’s skull. “Goodbye, Maxwell. I would say that you’ll be missed, but-”

“No!” Chang shouted. “Do not kill him.”

Quatre looked nonplussed. “I’m afraid that  _ you _ are not giving the orders here, Chang.”

“If you kill him now, then this is it - this will be the only treasure you leave with. Everything else - all of our plans - everything is locked, and can only be accessed by me and  _ him _ .”

“ _ Me? _ ”

“ _ Him _ ?”

Duo and Quatre sounded equally perplexed.

Chang nodded. “His blood is-”

“Oh. Well if all you need is his blood,” Quatre moved the gun back to Duo’s head, “I’m about to spill plenty of that.”

Quatre turned his head and looked at Trowa. “Any last words for your partner?”

Trowa licked his lips and drew in a deep breath.

He looked at Duo, at Relena hovering to one side, at Chang.

“ _ Xiàlái _ !”

Duo and Chang went down instantly at his command, and Trowa launched forward to tackle Relena to the ground as well just as the sound of gunfire tore through the air.

He heard Rashid swear, heard Quatre cry out in pain, heard round after round of bullets rending through flesh, striking the bouillon.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Hold your fire!”

He waited for the gunfire to cease, and then he cautiously lifted his head and looked around.

Rashid was closest to him, lying on his stomach, his face in a pool of blood. Trowa felt absolutely no remorse at his death - only irritation that he hadn’t been the one to kill the man who had been a plague on both Trowa and Duo.

Duo was already rolling to his side, getting up into a low crouch and looking over at Trowa in concern.

“Friends of yours?” he asked.

Trowa nodded. He hoped they were.

Duo snorted and shook his head. “You are full of surprises, Barton.”

Underneath Trowa, Relena started to squirm and so he moved, standing up and reaching down to pull her to her feet.

Quatre was on the floor, hands clutching his side, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound, and his wide eyes were frantically scanning the room.

Beyond him-

“Wufei!”

Trowa skidded across the floor to him, slipping in blood and falling to his knees beside the other man.

Chang was clutching his left shoulder, and blood stained that side of his white tunic.

His lips curled at Trowa’s use of his name, and he shied away from his touch.

“Let me see it.” Trowa shoved his hands away and cautiously inspected the wound. “Clean. Through and through, and I don’t think- It didn’t hit bone.”

“I am  _ aware _ ,” Chang growled, and Trowa had to roll his eyes.

“Relena! No! You  _ can’t _ !”

Trowa looked up to see Relena holding a gun as she stood over Quatre. There was a look of determination on her face that contrasted sharply with the way her hands shook.

Duo, hands outstretched in a supplicating manner, was at her side.

“If you kill him,” Duo said, his voice soft, “Tro and I will never find Cathy and Hilde. Please.  _ Please _ don’t kill him, Relena.”

“He-”

“I know, I  _ know _ , Relena.” Duo’s face was twisted into a grimace. “I know.”

Relena looked at Duo, into his eyes, and she wavered.

“Relena!”

The shout, the familiar voice, took everyone by surprise.

“Zechs?” Relena dropped the gun and ran forward, straight into the arms of the tall blond haired man who appeared out of the shadows.

Trowa looked away from them and at Heero Yuy.

Heero checked Rashid for a pulse, kicked his gun away just in case, and turned to regard Trowa with an unreadable expression.

Trowa dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the tracking device he had discovered. He threw it at Heero’s head, but the other man caught it easily.

“You were tracking me.”

Heero nodded.

“ _ Why _ ?”

Heero had to have put it on him when the  _ Scythe _ had been inspected at the checkpoint going into the Belt, when he and Heero had fucked. Trowa couldn’t decide if he was more pissed at Heero for  _ tracking him, _ or with himself for not noticing it sooner.

Heero’s eyes narrowed. “The  _ Scythe’s _ manifest said you were transporting a crew of twelve Maganacs to a mining satellite owned by Quatre Winner.” He looked down at the man in question, now pale and breathing through clenched teeth. “You walked away from him five years ago, and you told  _ me _ that you would rather die than be under his control again. I… was concerned.”

It was so classic, such a Heero thing to do, that Trowa felt his anger leave in a rush. 

He was left feeling deflated, adrenaline flagging, and he merely shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. He knew what Heero  _ wanted _ him to say, but it wasn’t- it wasn’t possible.

Instead of facing the moment, Trowa turned back to Quatre and knelt down beside him.

“Looks like you got hit in the liver,” he said to the man who had once been his lover. He ran his fingers through Quatre’s platinum hair, feeling the sweat beading on his forehead and skull. “I don’t think the  _ Sandrock’s _ infirmary has what I would need to keep you alive, and with the blood you’ve lost, I don’t think you would make it to one of the L3 colonies.” Trowa smoothed his hand over Quatre’s clammy forehead. “You’re going to die.”

Quatre laughed, and then coughed as he choked on his own blood.

“And when I do, you will never be able to save your sister. She will die, and-”

Trowa used his other hand to claw at Quatre’s abdomen, digging his fingers into the bullet hole.

Quatre cried out in shock and agony.

“You’re going to die,” Trowa repeated. “And I can make your last moments excruciatingly painful if you do not tell me where my sister is.”

Quatre gritted his teeth together, screaming between them when Trowa shoved another finger into the bullet hole.

_ Damnit _ .

Trowa decided to change tactics.

“Quatre,  _ please _ . I-”

“Move,” Heero ordered, and, without waiting for Trowa to react, shoved him away and took his place by Quatre’s side. 

“I tracked Trowa to the L4 Sector. I tracked him to  _ your _ estate, Quatre Winner. For the last twelve hours, IF soldiers have been raiding your headquarters. And do you know what they found? Do you know  _ who _ they found? Hidden away from even your own servants? My men got through five layers of security and they found your little science experiment. Your lab with-”

“ _ No! _ ” Quatre clutched at Heero’s arm. “No! You can’t- you can’t hurt them.”

Heero sneered. “I can do whatever I want.  _ You _ are going to die. Your money, your status - everything that you have built will die with you.  _ Everything _ . Unless…”

Quatre closed his eyes, and he sank back onto the floor. For a moment, Trowa was afraid he was already dead. 

“The safehouse on M457A. Trowa and Duo know which one.”

Heero looked over at Trowa, who nodded.

Heero turned back to Quatre and squeezed his shoulder firmly.

“I’m glad you did one decent thing in your miserable life,” he said, before pulling out his gun.

“Wait- my- will you-”

“I’ll make sure they have a proper burial,” Heero sneered, “but I’ll be damned if I allow your clones to run rampant.” And with that, he put the gun to Quatre’s temple and pulled the trigger.

The silence afterwards was deafening, and Trowa couldn’t help but feel mixed emotions as he stared at Quatre’s corpse.

For all that he was - for all the evil he had wrought - Trowa had loved him.

“Clones?” Duo asked in a horrified whisper.

Heero stood up and nodded.

“An entire room of them.” He looked over at Relena and Zechs, the two still locked in an embrace. “How did you-?” He looked between Duo and Trowa.

“I remembered her. Well, I remembered her face. Zechs liked to keep her photo on his desk. You didn’t recognize her?” He raised his eyebrows at Trowa’s confused look. “She’s his sister.”

Trowa shook his head. “I never paid much attention to what was on Zechs’ desk.”

Duo laughed, and looked like he wanted to make some comment on that, but he mercifully restrained himself.

“Can any of you explain what, exactly, is going on here?” Zechs asked when he and Relena finally parted.

“Well,” Duo grinned broadly, “I rescued your sister so… if there’s some kind of reward or-”

Zechs glared at him.

“Or just like, a nice thank you message will do,” Duo quickly added.

Zechs looked over at Trowa and Chang and arched one of his eyebrows in question.

Trowa hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much to tell them - wasn’t sure how much Chang wanted them to know.

He looked at the other man.

Chang was grimacing, though whether it was from pain or the question, Trowa didn’t know.

“Follow me,” he said with a sigh.

They left Rashid and Quatre’s bodies in the room, and followed Chang back into the foyer and down several flights of stairs before Chang stopped in front of an unmarked door and entered something into the keypad.

The door’s lock disengaged, and Trowa reached forward to open the door before Chang could further injure himself. The other man shot him a look that was a mix of gratitude and irritation.

As Chang stepped over the threshold of the door, lights flickered on in the room beyond.

“ _ Holy shit _ ,” Duo breathed, echoing Trowa’s thoughts.

The room was easily as large as the chamber upstairs, but instead of rows of gold bullion, there were a dozen rows of stasis capsules, each of the rows holding at least thirty capsules.

“Someone needs to start explaining what I’m looking at  _ right now _ ,” Heero said, his voice deadly. “I just had Winner’s clones dealt with. If this is-”

“No,” Chang said, his voice strong. He stepped in front of Heero, close enough that the other man backed away a step. Chang drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“We knew that the Winners were coming for us - we knew that the battles, the attacks- we knew that when they would not succeed in defeating us on the field of battle, they would try another tactic. Our spies learned about the plague, and we… took measures to ensure our survival.”

“This colony?” Duo asked, making a broad gesture.

“Yes and no. This colony was already under construction. The decision was made to develop the cloaking device and ensure that, whatever happened, we would have this one safe haven.”

“But it’s uninhabited - there are no signs that  _ anyone _ has ever lived here,” Relena pointed out.

Chang nodded in agreement. “Yes. We - the Elders - felt that it would draw attention, to move populations to this colony. So instead, when the first outbreaks of the plague began, five hundred of our most valuable clan members were put into stasis. Our most brilliant politicians, our warriors, our scientists and artists - and fifty children with the most diverse and healthiest genetic markers. The Elders knew that the Winners would not stop until we were completely wiped out, and so they allowed that to happen so that one day we could rebuild.”

“But why now?” Zechs asked. “It’s been two hundred years. Why did you wait so long?”

“It wasn’t up to me,” Chang said. “The original plan was to place one of our most experienced leaders in stasis aboard the  _ Nataku _ so that, when he was awakened, he would be able to judge the right time to revive the rest.”

“ _ You _ were one of the Chang leaders?” Duo didn’t bother to keep his disbelief out of his voice. “A little young, aren’t you?”

Chang sneered. “Of course I wasn’t. Master Long was supposed to be in that capsule. The original plan was for Master Long to be put into stasis while his granddaughter and I would escape and disappear. We were tasked with carrying on our line, of passing down instructions for how to find the  _ Nataku _ and how to wake up Master Long.”

“Your wife,” Trowa realized.

Chang nodded, and his face turned grim. “Both she and Master Long died. The Winners- the Maganacs came for us. And I…” Chang trailed off, and Trowa watched the man’s throat work as he struggled to swallow. After a moment, he drew in a deep breath and turned to Duo. “And I need  _ you _ because your blood is the only way to revive them.”

“Wait, wait. How is- what- why  _ me _ ?” Duo stumbled over his questions.

Chang frowned, as though he didn’t understand why Duo didn’t already know.

“When you revived me on the  _ Nataku _ , the ship sent a signal to this colony, a signal with  _ your _ DNA imprint. The original plan was for my descendents to be the ones - for their DNA to be used - but we didn’t know just how many generations, how many mutations there would be, so we didn’t code it for any markers. When you typed in the revive code, when the machine took a sample of your blood, it-”

“I didn’t type in the code,” Duo said bluntly, cutting into Chang’s explanation.

“What?”

“I wasn’t the one who woke you up. I didn’t type in the code - I didn’t give any blood sample. Trowa was the one who typed it in.”

Chang turned to Trowa, his face shifting from confusion to anger.

“You lied to me.”

Judging from Chang’s tone and his face, Trowa could guess that lying was almost as bad as committing genocide.

“You were going to kill him.”

“Who-  _ he _ was going to kill  _ me _ ?” Duo demanded. “What the fuck?”

Trowa ignored him and met Chang’s angry glare. “You said you would kill all of us except the person who revived you. I didn’t know- I didn’t know  _ why _ you planned to make that exception. I just wanted to protect him.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, Tro,” Duo muttered, and shook his head. “You should have been thinking about saving  _ yourself, _ and-”

“You wouldn’t have done the same, for me?”

“Well, I mean, of course, but you’re you and I’m- I’m just saying I… fuck. I don’t know what I’m saying. Thanks?”

Trowa had to smirk at Duo, and his partner shook his head, but his lips were curved upwards.

Chang, however, appeared to be unmoved by Trowa’s selfless act.

“Give me your hand,” he instructed, holding out his own.

Without hesitation, Trowa placed his hand in Chang’s. The other man wrapped his fingers around Trowa’s wrist and pulled him along as he walked towards a console at the front of one of the rows.

He started to type in a series of codes, fingers moving quickly and confidently. 

Trowa was distracted, however, by the way Chang’s fingers smoothed over the inside of his wrist, down to his palm. It felt like an electric current across his skin, and Trowa shivered.

Chang lifted Trowa’s hand as a slim needle extended upwards from the keypad.

“Wait,” Zechs spoke up. “Wait. You can’t- you can’t intend to just… You’re going to revive them?”

Chang turned to him with a narrow-eyed glare and a scowl. “Of course. I have to.”

“But if you- think for just a moment. This colony - the technology, the  _ wealth _ \- all of it could be-”

“Zechs, no,” Trowa interrupted him. “No.”

Zechs made a frustrated sound and looked at his sister, but she shook her head adamantly. 

“You can’t really be thinking of doing that,” she said to him, voice horrified. “Zechs- what would our  _ father _ -”

“Do not presume to tell me what our dead father would want, Relena. His idiotic dreams resulted in his death in the first place.” He turned back to Chang and Trowa. “You can’t expect me to just stand here while the greatest discovery of the century is passed off to a bunch of corpses.”

Chang’s jaw locked, and Trowa could feel his entire body tense as he prepared himself for a battle.

“Zechs, buddy, you continue down this line of thought and you’re going to leave your sister without any family.” Duo’s words were familiar, his tone conciliatory, but the look in his eyes and the way he raised the gun he had taken from Quatre were deadly serious.

Heero, standing to one side, regarded Zechs with a scowl.

“If you do this,” he said, his voice low and harsh, “you will become the worst sort of pirate there is. You will not only shame your father’s legacy, but you will be forming yourself into the image of his murderers.”

Zechs made a strangled, exasperated sound.

“You make take whatever gold you want,” Chang said. “Consider it a reward and payment for your services. But my clan  _ will _ rise again and you will not stop us.” With that, he shoved Trowa’s hand down onto the needle, harder than Trowa thought was really necessary.

He felt the sharp prick of it, but after a heartbeat, Chang pulled his hand away.

The needle retracted, and the console began to stream a series of data texts.

Chang smiled softly, his entire face transforming.

“It’s running diagnostics now. If all goes well, the revival process will begin.”

“How long will it take?”

“Sixteen to twenty-four hours. I want it to be gradual. The capsules are designed to repair cellular damage as it occurs, but… revive them too quickly and the results could be fatal.”

Trowa nodded, keenly aware that Chang could have died - could have gone insane - at his own revival.

He turned to see Zechs leaving the chamber, Relena at his heels.

Heero looked between Trowa and Chang.

“I’ll follow Zechs, make sure he finds his way back to his shuttle.”

“It was just you and him?” Trowa asked. “There aren’t IF soldiers swarming over the colony?”

Heero shook his head. “No. It was hard enough to get the expeditionary force for the raid on Quatre’s mansion. This- I’m technically AWOL.” Heero gave him a rueful smirk.

Trowa chuckled at that.

“I’ll make sure Zechs keeps his mouth shut about this,” Heero added, and nodded at the capsules. “About the entire colony.”

Duo arched an eyebrow in challenge. “What makes you think you can?”

Heero offered him a superior little smirk. “Zechs is far more likely to listen to  _ me _ than to  _ you _ , considering the fact that I didn’t rebuff his advances.”

“Oh.” Duo sounded just as surprised as Trowa felt by that revelation.

Heero glanced towards Trowa again, eyes searching for a reaction. 

Trowa never would have pictured the two of them together. Then again, now that he thought about it, it made a certain amount of sense.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

“You as well,” Heero responded, and then he turned on his heel and left.

Duo chuckled. “This day just keeps getting weirder and fucking weirder. Governor Meat Packer and Captain Tight Ass? Man. I’m gonna need to scrub my brain after that mental image.”

Duo started to wander down the nearest row of capsules. “Any chance you put some of your engineers on ice? Like maybe the people who designed this colony?”

“Chien-Shiung Wu,” Chang said. “She should be in the second row.”

“Awesome.” Duo headed in that direction, and it was only as he disappeared from view that Trowa realized Chang was still holding his hand.

He looked down, admiring the contrast of their skin together, the tapered lengths of Chang’s strong fingers, the small scar on the back of his thumb. 

Trowa found that he very much wanted to know the story of that scar - the story of  _ every _ scar on Chang’s perfect body, the story of his past, his dreams for the future. 

Trowa wanted  _ Chang _ more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything before, the need to have him so intense and visceral that it frightened him.

“Wufei.”

He saw Chang swallow hard, saw his body sway slightly at the sound of Trowa saying his name. He turned to face Trowa, still holding onto his hand.

“I lied, when I said you spoke Mandarin like an illiterate pirate,” Chang said, his dark gaze searing into Trowa. “You don’t.”

Trowa felt his lips twitch. “Really?”

Chang nodded. “You speak it like a pirate who can at least read his own name.”

Trowa had to roll his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond to that, but Chang pressed the index finger of his free hand over Trowa’s lips.

“I lied to you, and you lied to me. It will not happen again.”

Chang’s voice was serious, and Trowa nodded in agreement.

Chang moved his index finger over Trowa’s lips, back and forth, his touch firm. 

“This mouth is capable of many things,” he mused.

“Such as butchering Mandarin,” Trowa suggested, the feel of Chang’s finger strange and yet very, very welcome.

“I hope more than that,” the other man muttered. He pressed his finger between Trowa’s lips, the tip brushing over Trowa’s teeth and teasing at his tongue.

Trowa sucked on it, drawing Chang in, and for a moment it felt very much - too much - like what had happened in  _ Scythe’s _ cargo hold.

He stepped back, putting space between them, finally letting go of Chang’s hand.

“You- Wufei,  _ I _ did-”

Chang closed the space between them, grabbed the back of Trowa’s neck, and pulled him down into a fierce kiss. Trowa was frozen for a moment, his brain needing several seconds to catch up, but then he wrapped his arms around Chang and pressed their bodies together even as he opened his mouth to the other man, surrendering to him completely.

Eventually, when Chang pulled away, Trowa was left breathless and scorched. 

“Uh…”

Flushing and eyes going wide, Trowa turned to see Duo standing a few feet away from them. He gave Trowa a broad grin.

“I’m just going to go and catch a ride with Relena and the Really Fucked-Up Couple That I Never Wanted To Know About. I should go get the  _ Scythe _ and get our girls, make sure they’re okay… You, ah, you wanna come with, or do you want me to…”

“Can he come back?” Trowa asked Chang. “Can he bring my sister and his- Hilde?” Trowa amended, Duo’s relationship with Hilde too complicated for any one term.

Duo, Trowa saw out of the corner of his eye, was actually biting his lip as he waited for Chang’s response.

“You want to stay?” Chang asked him.

Trowa nodded, too eagerly, and Duo muttered something about pretty boys and doom under his breath.

“They can come back.”

“Great! I’ll, ah, well… I’ll just be on my way and leave you to do your whole… making out in front of five hundred people is stasis thing…”

Duo made a speedy escape, but the moment between Trowa and Chang had been broken.

“What will you do now?” Trowa asked Chang as they looked over the capsules.

“Find a map.”

Trowa arched an eyebrow at him.

“I need to find the nearest infirmary and take care of my shoulder,” Chang said.

“And then?”

“There’s no food in production yet, and I haven’t showered in... two hundred years. A trip back to the  _ Sandrock _ is in order.”

“And  _ then _ ?”

Chang smirked, and he laced their hands together.

“And  _ then _ I expect you to show me what else your mouth is capable of.”

  
  


-o-

 

Translations:

_ Xiàlái _ : Get Down !


End file.
